Lost at Sea
by EdLoad
Summary: When Troy is kidnapped by a terrorist organization on his voyage, the group winds up on an adventure that will take them around the globe, and down into some very shady places. Set 2 months after the season 5 finale. Adventure, comedy and maybe even some romance along the way. Characters old and new will make appearances.
1. Pilot

**A/N: **Hey all. EdLoad here. Welcome to my magnum opus, or at least my new large scale project. This Community fanfiction will draw together characters old and new into an adventure fit FOR KINGS… or at least until next season. The story begins two months following the events of season 5. I know the deal with long fanfics is that they are often left unfinished… sometimes agonizingly close to completion, but I promise I shall see this through to the end, no matter how long it takes. You may have to be a little patient at times, though. I shall try and give posting predictions at the end of each chapter. Well, without further ado, here is chapter 1, the pilot. Let me know what you think, and as always, feedback is very much appreciated.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own a teapot. Hah, didn't see that one coming, did you? But seriously, yeah, I don't own Community nor its wonderful characters.

**Spoilers: **Up to the end of season 5, but not in many episode-specific ways.

**ACT I: PROLOGUE **

**Chapter 1 – Pilot**

JEFF

Walking into the study room, Jeff Winger felt a sense of coming home. Although he would fervently deny his feelings to anyone who asked him about it, after five years, even he had to admit that his study group (committee, whatever) was really something special. This ragtag group of wacky oddballs had changed him more than 10 years at a top lawyer firm ever had, and ever could. And this feeling of... friendship was not something he had experienced before coming to Greendale.

In his head, he could hear Alan, his douchebag former lawyer friend, yell "Look at the soft _gay_ pudgeball you've become, Winger. It's pathetic." But he hated Alan, so he didn't give it a second thought. He even indulged himself in imagining taping over Alan's pudgy lips with the toughest, strongest imaginary masking tape he could find, and listening to him squeal in protest. _Heh, squeal all you like, piggy_, he thought, smirking, before he realized he was in conversation with his imagination.

Admittedly, last year had been a little intense, what with his attempted suicide and the near closure of the college and his failed marriage… _attempt_, so he had taken some time off during the summer to think things over, alone. But now he was back, and it would be a lie to say he hadn't missed his group. His friends.

His little daydream was, however, abruptly interrupted when looked around the room. _What the hell?_ The place was not only dark, but also completely vacant. He looked around the room to see if they were hiding somewhere, but there was no sign of any of them. Under the table, behind the couch, on top of the bookshelf. He even checked in the airvents, but all he found was a lot of monkey fur and... was that _Vaseline_?

Refusing to give it another thought, he glanced at his watch. He had already been 20 minutes late when he first arrived, there was no way everyone else was later than he was. Had he got the wrong day?

Bewildered, Jeff reached into his pocket and checked his messages.

In the glint of the darkened glass on the far side of the wall he saw something move. _Reflection. Someone's behind m-__  
_

Before he could turn around, he felt the rough texture of a straw bag being lifted onto his head, smothering him. He barely had time to let out a noise of protest before something was pressed onto his face over the bag. Some kind of cloth, or rag…

* * *

When Jeff awoke, he was hesitant to open his eyes. He felt that the bag was no longer over him, and he was now seated. He also felt his wrists loosely bound to the chair armrests. A mild panic seized him, but he tried to remember if he had ever received advice on what to do in the event of being kidnapped. The closest he got was a course he took at Greendale called "Hostages 101 - Why The Pirates are the Captives?", question mark and all. It was as bad as it sounded, but gave him a free math credit, so of course he took it. Thus coming up blank, he just sat there with his eyes closed, hoping his captors hadn't noticed he'd woken up. A girl's voice suddenly cut through his thoughts.

"Guys… what are we gonna do if he doesn't wake up soon?"

"Don't worry," replied a male's, "chloroform's effects tend to last around 20 minutes."

"Exactly." Another girl's voice. "And we've only been here 23."

"That's three minutes too long!"

At this Jeff couldn't hold it in any longer, so he gave a rather loud snort, eyes still closed. This caused a couple of squeals to come from his captors. He gave time for a dramatic pause before speaking in a soft, low voice.

"I told you that you would never make it in the criminal underworld. Patience isn't really your strong suit, is it: _Miss Edison_?"

A familiar outraged gasp informed him of his victory. He smirked and opened his eyes, blinded by the sudden brightness.

"Hi everyone."

After a brief moment of shock and awkwardness, the tension broke and everyone came round for a group hug, the girls squealing his name as if it was spelled with an exclamation mark, and Abed hanging back and offering an unemotional "Hi Jeff." After a while, they untied him (or rather, he just slipped his hands out of the slack rope), the group took their normal places, and Jeff felt it was a suitable time to speak up.

"Well guys, thanks for the… um… dramatic introduction and it's great to see you all…" At this point he noticed a lack of certain faces from the table – Hickey, who he knew was in New York taking a sabbatical for the semester, and Duncan, who last he heard of had returned to England after a nervous breakdown from the electric shock he had received last year. He also noticed a certain new face at the table – a certain attractive blonde with big, black glasses that had taken Troy's old seat. _Steady on, Winger. I have a feeling this one's taken._ "… faces old _and _new." He gave a welcoming nod to Rachel, and she returned it with a casual smile.

"I suppose this is a good time to apologize for vanishing after the events of last year, but I needed some time off… to think things over." He glanced quickly at Britta, who gave an understanding nod, and then his eyes drifted over to his left… but he pulled back before they got too far.

Shirley spoke up. "That's all right, Jeff. I think we all needed a little break after last year's… adventure."

"Well regardless," Jeff said, "we should all be proud that the Save Greendale committee managed to do its job – twice over." The group murmured in agreement.

After a brief moment of retrospective silence, Jeff asked, "So, how was everyone's summer?"

The group launched into a set of summaries of how they had spent their holidays. Shirley had set up a new shop out of campus in town for Shirley's Sandwiches, and had spent a couple of weeks training Chang and hiring some new staff. This allowed her some time away from the business – she had even convinced Andre to let her spend a couple of days with her kids.

Britta had found work in an animal shelter in Denver, where she had spent most of her time with the abandoned cats – until she got kicked out after 3 weeks for trying to smuggle one back home. So she had spent the rest of the summer trying to rally a protest against the shelter, although she had found it "somewhat difficult" to find opposition to an institution dedicated to saving animals. She remained "hopeful", though, which gave Jeff cause to roll his eyes.

Abed had spent much of his time watching the new season of the Cape, which had been renewed by some online company everyone thought had gone extinct. But he had also spent time with his father learning how to make fafalels, as a "backup in case our series was cancelled prematurely." Jeff rolled his eyes again that Abed was still pushing his "we're living in a TV show" theory (if that were true, wouldn't there have been some advertising or promotion or something?), but was nevertheless impressed he'd spent time with his father. _Not an easy job, I know. _He had also spent a lot of time with Rachel – they even took a week off to go to Comicon in San Diego.

"What about you, Annie?" Jeff asked as he turned to the girl on his left. "Cleaned up a river and met some guy there who helped you fish out a finger from the water?"

In truth, Jeff spent a lot of time thinking about his brunette best friend following the events in the basement last year. He had spent 5 years denying that there were – or could ever be – any feelings between them, but Borchert's stupid sentimental computer, with its monochrome monitor face and its nipple-pleasure detection, had begged to differ. Now, with the empirical evidence laid in front of him, he was having a harder time running away from… whatever it was.

Jeff had hoped that Annie had indeed found a new Rich to be obsessed with so he didn't need to think about it any more, but that would have been too easy.

"No… I did an internship at Denver Police Station as a forensic analyst, but the only men I saw were wrinkly or pimply."

Before Jeff got a chance to offer any comment, the study room doors burst open and the speakers blared with a certain high-pitched, male, _very pansexual_ voice.

"It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new liiiiiffffe, foooor meeeeee... and I'm _deaning_ good."

As the fanfare started in the corridor, Dean Pelton waltzed into the room, to the applause of Shirley and Annie.

"Oh, my _favorite_ group. The heroes of this school. It is good to see you all." His voice dropped down to a discrete murmur as he whispered "Jeffery", with a wink and a quick pat (and squeeze) of his shoulder.

Despite the questionable contact, Jeff couldn't help but smile with the rest of the group. "Nice to see you too, Dean." He could have sworn he saw the Dean shiver a little at his voice, but he moved on quickly. "What brings you here?"

"Oh, can I not simply be here to welcome back the people who saved my school? Can it not simply be a visit from a grateful friend to those who had rescued him and all he holds dear? Is there no longer a time when a man can not merely be here as a gesture of good will and everlasting friendship?" And then, rather quickly, he added, "But as it happens, the CIA are here to see you."

"Wha-" the group barely had time to exclaim before a middle-aged blond in a dark suit, white shirt and large sunglasses walked into the room.

"Agent Vohlers?" Abed frowned in surprise.

The CIA Special Agent turned her head slightly to face him. "Abed." If Jeff hadn't been watching closely, he would have missed the tiny, quickly repressed smile on her face.

Abed tilted his head slightly, face void of emotion. After a moment of internal thought, he shrugged and gave a quick wave. This did not go unnoticed by Rachel, who promptly spoke up.

"I'm sorry… who are you?"

The blonde faced her, but Jeff decided to speak to minimize the awkwardness. "Rachel, this is Agent Vohlers, one of Abed's previous… _aquaintances_. They met a few years ago when the Vice President was coming to visit. She left after a few days when no meaningful threats were found at the school. Except Leonard, but they knew about him already." _There we go, nice and detached. Nailed it, Winger._

"So how are they on first name basis?"

_Dammit._

Agent Vohlers' face turned ever-so-slightly redder.

Catching on, Annie came to the rescue.

"What brings you to Greendale, Agent Vohlers?"

This was enough to snap the CIA Agent back into some sense of professionalism.

"I'm here to discuss a situation that will be of grave importance to this study group."

The six of them looked at each other, thinking what they could have done. Nightmares of a certain sandwich company came rushing back to them.

"Those corporate BASTARDS!" Britta yelled. "I knew they couldn't keep their filthy, Italian-herbed fingers off our pristine white bun of a college!"

Abed and Annie nodded in agreement, and Shirley just looked plain angry.

Agent Vohlers face crinkled in confusion. "No, it's nothing to do with Subway."

The group gave a collective sigh of relief.

"…It's about your friend. Troy Barnes."

Jeff went wide-eyed. So did the rest of the table.

"He's been captured."

* * *

**A/N: **Hey you. Yeah, you, looking at the screen. I need you to follow my instructions very carefully. I need you to think of one thing you either liked or disliked about this chapter, go to the reviews page and tell me it. Congratulations! You just left me feedback, and I am forever indebted. Thanks, buddy.


	2. We Don't Negotiate with Terrorists

**Chapter 2 – "We Don't Negotiate with Terrorists"**

BRITTA

_Troy._

It had been a while since Britta had thought about the adorable, immature man who had left their group last year. OK, that was a lie she could barely even tell herself: she still thought about him far more than she should. She knew, in more ways than she was comfortable admitting, she was similar to Jeff – the same cold, hard and very brief outlook on any relationship. She had never had problems letting go in the past, but Troy had been different. Troy had been a friend.

After his departure to sail around the world, Britta had got over it pretty quickly. That had always been her strength: the ability to move on without hitch. But then, with the school failing, she and Jeff orchestrated this ridiculous marriage concept out of thin air: neither knew why they were doing it, yet neither moved to stop it. His words still rang true: perhaps they were both realizing they needed to settle down at some point. It didn't take long at all for them both to realize that this didn't mean settling down with each other. They were about as incompatible as they could get.

It was the whole fiasco that had caused her to start thinking about her ex-boyfriend again. She wasn't really one for flowers or fancy dates… or emotions… or romance, but Troy had been on her mind, and she couldn't explain why.

_Lame, dumbass, _said a voice in her head that sounded oddly like her own.

Brushing the thoughts from her mind, she spoke up, in a voice that was tinged with too much anxiety:

"Troy? What happened? Is he OK?"

"Three days ago we received credible information that a young African-American and celebrity Levar Burton had been captured at sea." Agent Vohlers spoke in a crisp and professional manner. "We don't know many details, but we suspect this is part of a publicity campaign for a yet unknown terrorist group."

There was some shocked and quiet murmuring around the table before Jeff spoke up. "How did we find out about this? And how do we know they're terrorists?"

"We received an untraceable video that clearly showed both men being held captive, but with few further details. There was no demand for ransom, and nothing to indicate who was behind the capture. Given the circumstances, the US government has reason to believe these were not pirates, but an organized group of criminals."

"OK, so what does this have to do with anything?" Britta asked.

"Despite the lack of information," the agent continued, "the video did contain a logo implanted into certain frames that linked back to a previous attack on US soil. During this previous attack, one member of this anonymous and unnamed group was captured and currently resides at a maximum security prison. At the end of the video there was a message that demanded his release and escort off of US soil in return for the release of Mr Barnes and Mr Burton."

"And… why hasn't this been done?" asked Jeff.

Agent Vohlers gave an uncomfortable cough, and seemed unable to say any more. She looked to Abed, as if willing him to answer for her.

Abed looked deep in thought for a couple seconds, before going wide-eyed. He opened his mouth to say something, but didn't seem to be able to say it.

So Rachel said it for him. "The United States doesn't negotiate with terrorists," came the soft whisper.

There was stunned silence. It slowly dawned on them individually what it meant. Jeff opened his mouth as if to say something, but just closed it again when nothing came out.

At length, Shirley spoke up. "Is there any chance of finding him? At all?"

"We're putting everything we can into tracking down them down, but I have to say we are not optimistic. The video left no indication of where they might be, so unless we receive further information, it is unlikely we will be able to help."

Silence again.

Britta was angry. "So, you're telling me that the United States government, an institution that prides itself on being the center of the world, that draws billions of hard-earned taxpayers' dollars, that funds the largest military in the world, is "not optimistic" about finding two American citizens against a small-time terrorist group, one of whose members is currently-"

"Britta-"

"-sitting idly on US SOIL, while two of those CITIZENS that this government swears to defend-"

"Britta!-"

"-, to serve and protect, is held hostage, and WE REFUSE TO DO ANYTHING ABOUT THAT?"

"BRITTA!" Annie practically yelled to cut her off. In fairness to her, it worked. Britta, realizing how fruitless her outburst had been, collapsed into her chair in defeat. She wanted to cry. And Britta never wanted to cry. She lifted her eyes to Annie.

Annie met her gaze, tightened her lips, and sighed.

"Then what are you doing here, Agent Vohlers?" she asked.

The blonde coughed uncomfortably again, and paused before speaking.

"Despite these… regrettable circumstances, it was obvious to me how much Troy meant to Abed… and to the rest of the group", she added after Rachel gave a somehow aggressive cough. "As such, I am coming here off-book, to offer you advice."

"I will be honest, I think there is little chance of the CIA being able to help you – we are still caught up in the entire fiasco of the last hostage situation, and chain of command is tying our hands together. The resources we are putting in are barely enough to satisfy even the least curious of press."

"So you're saying the CIA is doing jackshit?" Jeff posed rhetorically.

"I'm saying… I know what power friendship holds. I know wonders can be worked. I also know that your current occupations, as the Save Greendale committee, are of less importance this year following the events of last. Logically, that should allow you more free time to pursue your own… interests."

Abed appeared to catch on to what Vohlers was getting it, although the others were struggling. A glint shimmered in his eyes as Britta could almost hear his brain engaging. "You're saying…"

"I'm saying," Vohlers continued, "that where the United States government is failing, you as a group may be able to step up."

It seemed like a day for stunned silences.

"You're saying…" Jeff started, "we could go save Troy? That's _insane_. How could we hope to succeed where our country can't? We don't have the training, nor the skills, nor, most importantly, the _money_ to even start to plan this!"

"I disagree, Mr Winger. Your five years together has brought you together as a group stronger than any training scheme could hope to, and three sessions of brutal, knockout paintball indicate that your abilities are far better than what you might think. As for the money, I think I can help."

"You're saying the US government will fund a mission for us?"

"No. But I know a man who might."

She said a name.

_I'll be damned._ _National stunned silence day it is then_, thought Britta.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry about the rather somber mood of this chapter – it only seemed fitting. I intend to convey the humor of Community as much as possible in this novel, but it was difficult in this chapter. Well, that concludes Act 1 (the Prologue); next, we're off to visit an old friend! Next chapter will be up in a day or two, hopefully. Feedback is always appreciated.


	3. Wipe Away the Tears

**Chapter 3 – Wipe Away the Tears**

RACHEL

The borrowed Greendale minivan pulled into space at the end of the driveway.

"Well, this is the place," Jeff said.

Rachel looked out of the grubby window. An imposing Georgian-themed mansion lay in front of them, framed by dark and large trees on either side. A lake could be seen off in the distance, beyond an expansive lawn. A very well-manicured lawn.

This was Rachel's first ever sighting of the house they had now parked next to, but not for the others, she knew.

"…the Hawthorne family mansion," she whispered. A crack of thunder sounded.

**ACT II – Pierce's Puzzle**

"Abed!" said Jeff. "Quit it with the dramatic sound effects!"

"Sorry. New update just launched for the app. 'Realistic atmospheric effects'."

Jeff rolled his eyes, but Rachel just smiled. It was those small things that most people found irritating about Abed that she loved, and why they had bonded so well together.

It had been 4 months since they had started dating (or 48, according to Abed's 12x efficiency rule), and things were going well. Sure, they had had fights – like the time he and his roommate had busted out that ridiculous game, Pile of Bullets; or the time she had tried to explain daylight savings time to him and gotten irritated, but it was all what was to be expected, right? This summer especially had been really good for them – they had gotten to spend more time together, with college over. She had even met his dad – although the father had seemed more pleased with the fact that Abed had a girlfriend than actually meeting her. He did make delicious falafels though.

Her thoughts were cut short as Jeff made his to the side of the minibus and slid open the door.

Rachel got out and stood by the rest of the group as they looked at the huge mansion. She knew they were likely silently reminiscing of their past visits – notably the Halloween when they had been lured here and had their wits scared out of them by Pierce's elaborate tricks. Although Rachel hadn't been there at the time, the group had brought it up from time to time.

She began to think about what she actually knew about Pierce. Sure, there had been a couple times she'd met him when he was still… around – such as the time he hosted that massive Hawthorne Wipes party for the gay community, but mostly she knew him from stories from the study group. Since she had only gotten to know them after his departure, she had never actually met Pierce in person. But standing here, in front of this lavish but oddly dark estate, she sensed that there had always been trouble underneath the surface with him.

Sensing the group may have been getting a bit too nostalgic, she suggested they enter. The sudden noise of her voice made them jump, but they moved towards the door.

Troy collected the hidden key, whose whereabouts he knew from his time here, and unlocked the huge oak door that led to the entrance hall.

At the sight of the interior, Rachel couldn't help but gasp. The hall was _humongous_. Huge oak beams lifted all the way to the vaulted ceiling, with supporting marble pillars assisting the stone and paneled-wood walls. Lush blue carpet on the floor held several mahogany tables, with leathered chairs and chandeliers scattered around the place. _This moist towelette business is serious stuff._

Before the group could go any further, Jeff took a few steps forward and turned to address the group.

"Guys. We have to remember what we're doing here. We also have to remember what Pierce has done to us in the past. He purposefully has, and will, try to tear this group apart. We _cannot_ let that happen. So, stick together, be careful, and _don't trust him_."

"I see your speeches haven't gotten any worse, Winger."

The group let out a scream collectively at the sound of a dead man's voice. Well, who they had thought was dead until 90 minutes ago.

An old projector whirred into life near the back wall, and the opposite wall of the hall was plastered with a giant image of Pierce Hawthorne.

"Hello, my study group. Oh, and Ay-bed's new girlfriend. Ay-bed's broke by the way, so you could always come and share my bed… wait, that doesn't make sense." Rachel rolled her eyes.

"What do you want, Pierce?" Jeff yelled to the projection.

"What do _I_ want? I think this more a case of what _you _want, Jeff. And I think I can hazard a guess. Since you guys never even once called me after my departure-"

"That's because we thought you were DEAD, Pierce."

The old man raised his hand to silence him.

"As I was saying, since you never seem to appreciate my friendship, I can only assume you're here for my money."

Now the group felt a bit guilty. But only for a brief moment before Jeff spoke.

"Guys, stop letting Pierce guilt you out! This is what he does best – and what is going to make us fail. Remember, this is for Troy, and stop pitying him when he faked his own death and blames us for not questioning his motives!"

Although he was right, Rachel knew that this wasn't going to help their cause with Pierce, so she took a few steps forward and addressed the projected image.

"Look, Mr Hawthorne, umm, _Pierce_, we are sorry for not contacting you during your… _hiatus_, but we're here because Troy is in trouble. We're here to help a friend, and I'm really hoping that you will too? Please?"

The old man sighed before speaking. "Fine, but only if you complete my task. Britta, Annie, Ay-bed's girlfriend, take your tops off."

The three made outraged faces and gasps. So did Shirley, for being excluded.

"Well, I'm sure that plan will work some day. In that case, I have another task for all of you. If you can solve my puzzle and find me, I will give you what you need. Have fun!" He gave an extremely disturbing attempt at a smile before the projector flickered off.

The group stood in silence for a moment.

Just as Rachel was about to speak, the entire room started shaking and a section of one of the walls suddenly moved inwards and then up, to reveal a hidden entrance. A hidden entrance that was, as it seemed, a giant water slide.

"Please enter the water slide one at a time, and only proceed when the light turns green," came a robotic voice from a speaker next to the gushing water.

The group was motionless, and utterly stunned.

"This man is completely insane," said Jeff.

"But awesome," added Abed.

"But mostly insane."

_Dun dun dun._

"Abed, that sound effect didn't even make sense."

"Pff, you just can't handle my creative genius."

* * *

"OK, so we have our order," said Britta finally.

The group had spent the last 30 minutes debating whether, and then how to proceed. Since they desperately needed the money to even starting searching for Troy, the first question hadn't taken long. The second did. They were all still very suspicious of Pierce's motives, and were wary of what he had in store for them. But they didn't have much choice but to take his bizarre waterslide of doom.

Closer inspection of the slide had revealed little. There were no lights, so there was no way of telling where it went. All that changed was the light beside the water changed from red to green for 5 seconds every minute, indicating when someone should enter.

"Abed will go first since he volunteered, then Jeff since he should have gone first, then Annie since she volunteered to go after… Jeff, then Rachel, then me, then Shirley. Any problems?"

"Yeah," Jeff piped up. "We're going to be soaking wet, and this shirt is steam-clean only."

"Then take it off then!" Annie's poorly masked enthusiasm did not go unnoticed by the group.

"As much as I love to do you guys the honor, I do not trust Pierce that I will get this back if I leave it here. So I guess Gucci will have to take one for the team."

Britta rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Everyone ready?"

"No," everyone murmured.

"Remember guys," said Jeff, "stay calm, try to regroup wherever we end up, and do _not_ trust Pierce."

The green light flicked on.

"OK Abed, showtime."

With barely a parting glance, Abed jumped up, grabbed the upper ledge of the slide and descended into void in one fell swoop.

Rachel felt her stomach do the same.

* * *

**A/N: **Feedback is always appreciated. Thanks for reading, next chapter should be up in a few days – may have to take a break for a couple. Hope you've enjoyed reading so far.


	4. Pierces of the Puzzle

**Chapter 4 - Pierces of the Puzzle**

ABED

He landed in a splash pool of icy water.

Despite bracing for the worst beforehand, he let out an involuntary gasp as he hit the much colder landing water pool.

_Cold. Cold cold cold._

He smiled and mentally rewarded himself for humorously playing on his standard catchphrase. But then he remembered where he was, and who he was dealing with, so he wised up and looked around while treading water.

In the dim light the best he could do was make out dark silhouettes, but it was enough to see the ledge to the pool he had landed in, so he swam over and clambered out. Lying down for a moment, he let himself catch his breath, but his pause for respite was cut back abruptly when he was blinded by a huge spotlight emanating onto him from somewhere above.

Letting out a sharp yelp, he twisted over to shield himself before getting up. After that, more lights came on above, allowing him to finally see his surroundings.

_Wow. It's huge._

He was impressed. He found himself on an edge of what appeared to be an enormous natural cavern, the floor of which had been converted into… whatever he was looking at.

The ledge he had climbed onto was raised above the rest of the floor, allowing him a good view of what it held.

_A giant maze._

Indeed, the majority of the area was trailed with intricate rows of hedges that swirled around. But there was more to it: Abed saw pools, hills, buildings, even small forests within the maze. He also saw the five other entrance waterfalls to the cavern, spread out along the cave's edge, but all leading to pools that were on the ground floor.

_Seems like I will be the only one with an altitude advantage._

"Ay-bed!" boomed Pierce's voice suddenly. "Nice to see you made it! I'll be honest, I'm surprised they sent you first. I would have thought Winger would have dived in, being the natural-born leader and all."

_Don't rise to it._

"What do you want, Pierce?" he spoke loudly, tone neutral (not the hardest of challenges for him).

"Me? How kind of you to ask. I'll tell you, Ay-bed, what _I_ want. I want to give this group the money it needs, but only provided that this group finally appreciates me for the man I am, and stops running away from me like I'm some plague."

"Two questions. Firstly, is it the giving of the money or the appreciation you want? Or is it the nature of the deal itself? Or is it more feeling of trade-off you're interested in?"

"It's, ahh, um… OK, next question."

"We've always included you, and tried our hardest to care for you, haven't we?"

"Oh really? So where was my invite to the Save Greendale committee, huh?"

"We thought you were dead."

"Why does _everyone _keep using that excuse?"

Abed shook his head in defeat.

"Anyway," Pierce continued, "since you were the first down, you will be the overseer for this task. You will be able to see all the others, who will shortly be arriving from those other waterfalls you see. Your task is to guide them all from their positions to the platform below you. Once they have all arrived and scanned their fingerprints, an elevator will take them – and you – straight to me, where I will give you what you need. Do you understand, Ay-bed?"

He felt a slight tingle in excitement.

"Of course."

* * *

"A river, Britta. The answer is a river," he yelled over to her, solving the riddle.

"Oh, I get it! Thanks!"

Half an hour in, and they were making good progress. The group had been surprisingly cooperative, once they had landed, dried off and Abed had explained their task. While waiting for everyone to arrive, he had carefully studied the various components of the maze, and begun planning routes for everyone.

Having run through the basic proposal with everybody, he put it into action. No one had any objection to his leadership – Jeff even said he was glad it was "someone intelligent who went down the slide first" – and in truth, Abed was loving it. Not so much the leadership, but the mental stimulation of the task. The organized manipulation of five different entities in a complex task was something he revelled in. Of course, some events he couldn't predict, so he had to work on the go as well. Challenges popped up here and there, such as riddles or puzzles, that he wasn't able to see at a distance, but they didn't take too long to solve.

So, 30 minutes in, they were about ¾ of the way done.

"Take the left here Annie, but try not to bump into-"

"Ow!"

"…Jeff. Never mind. Both of you take next right in front of you."

"Need some help here, Abed!" Shirley yelled out from across the cavern.

"Take the next left and go straight through the forest!" he yelled back. "It should take about 3 minutes. Try not to diverge off course! Oh, and Annie?"

"Yeah?"

"Stop ogling at Jeff's wet shirt."

Down below, she let out an outraged gasp.

"Jeff, stop smirking, and stop ogling at Annie's wet shirt too."

At least it worked.

All of a sudden, Pierce's voice came on again. Abed hadn't heard from him since he first arrived, and he may have jumped along with everyone else at the sudden noise.

"Hello all. I see you've made some good progress. Abed seems to be doing a far better job than you ever could, Winger. [Jeff rolled his eyes.] Although, it seems like you're having a fine time down there, having a private mental undressing session with big boobs."

"Hey! We're just friends."

"Sure. Tell that to your eyes some time, will ya? Anywho, I'd just thought I'd let you know that I'm getting a bit tired of waiting, so my offer only stands for ten more minutes. To give you some incentive, I'll also give you to courtesy of warning you that this cavern will start to fill with water after nine of those minutes, which will give it the one minute it needs to completely flood this cavern. So, have fun!"

"Pierce you crazy bastard!" yelled Jeff towards the ceiling. "Listen up, I don't care how angry you are that we ignored you after you faked your death, but you can't just go and put our lives on the line! You're insane!"

But Pierce had already left. Abed swung into action.

"Alright, listen up people! The plan I had relied on us having at least 15 minutes, so we'll really have to hurry up, and I might have to cut some corners. So focus, we need to get through this."

Slight perspiration had begun to form on his brow in the pressure, but he was loving it.

* * *

"Shirley, are you nearly through the corn field yet?" His voice had begun to sound strained from the pressure and repeated yelling to be heard.

"Almost!"

"Come on, we're nearly out of time. Britta, have you finished moving the hoops yet?"

"Nearly there… come on… done!"

"OK, let the gate slide open, then run down the stairs and take the first left. You'll be the first to the platform."

"Sweet. Thanks!"

"No problem. Rachel!"

"Hey!"

"Hey. Take the first left you see for the next three turnings, then you'll see a small pool. Swim across, climb out and go up the small rock formation on the other side. You'll be able to see Britta from there."

"OK, cool!"

They were so close by now, even Abed had begun to tense a little. But the internal clock he held was expecting a call from Pierce anytime around n-

"Alright, I make it eight minutes, thirty seconds since my last call. That means by the time I'm done speaking, it will be time to release the floodgates. Now, I just need to keep speaking for 20 more seconds… Dum diddly doo da, hocky pocky, lalalalalala Eartha Kitt, OK, times up. No pressure!"

As the distinct sound of rushing water began to echo around the cavern, Abed spoke even louder and faster than before.

"Jeff and Annie, take the first left, right there!"

"It's a dead end, Abed!"

"I know, I'm improvising. Climb up, jump over to the next hedge and you'll see Britta from there."

"OK, got it!"

"Abed, where do I go?" yelled Shirley.

"Take a left, then right, the down the alleyway between the buildings. Hurry though!"

"I'm trying!"

The water, that was now fully crashing down from the waterslide entrances they had used less than an hour ago, had by now well burst the banks of the splash pools and was now spreading rapidly around the base of the cavern.

"Shirley, take the next left. Can you see the others?"

"Yup!"

"Is everyone else there?"

"Yup!" came a reply in unison.

"OK, now there are six scanners on the platform. You each need to scan your finger on the reader. Got it?"

The reply came to the affirmative.

After a few seconds, there was a hissing noise as two concealed doors slid open, revealing an elevator for them to step into, which they did hurriedly.

This left Abed alone in the cavern, so he quickly used his own fingerprint scanner, and the elevator doors on his level opened, letting him join his group just as water began to swirl around his feet.

As the doors hissed shut and the elevator jolted upwards, there was an awkward silence as the six wet and sweaty members of the group took a moment to recover.

"Hey, Abed," said Jeff, taking a few shallow breaths, "you did well there." He smiled.

Abed tilted his head to one side. "Thanks." He attempted a triumphant smile, but stopped when everyone gave him looks of confusion.

_OK. I probably need to work on facial expressions._

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks for reading. Feedback is always appreciated. Shout out to AmyGilli for reviewing twice already! Next chapter should be up in a day or two - sorry about the delay since the last chapter, I had to take a break for a day or two. Stay golden, pony boys!


	5. A Hawthorne on Our Side, Part 1

**Chapter 5 – A Hawthorne on Our Side, Part 1**

ANNIE

There was a sullen, exhausted silence as the elevator slid to a halt.

Annie was drowning in some bizarre cocktail of shock, anger, exhaustion and desperation. The events of today had taken its toll on her just as much as the rest of the group, and she was using whatever time she had spare to recuperate. She assumed everyone else was feeling the same way, hence the silence.

[In reality, she was almost right, except Abed was staying silent because everyone else was and he was trying to blend in.]

The last seven hours had been… awful. First the news that Troy had been captured, then that the government was just going to sit on their hands, then that Pierce was still alive, then his outrageous and, frankly, ridiculous maze of insanity, and nearly dying… it was overwhelming. She momentarily lost control of her limbs, and ended up losing her balance and nearly falling over sideways. Luckily, but rather cheesily, she put her hand out to push against whatever it found to stop her from collapsing entirely, and it found Jeff's sodden chest.

When their gazes met, she ignored and fervently denied to herself any sudden tingling sensations she felt, because not only was it extremely cheesy and something only found in poorly directed romantic comedies, but also because she was definitely and firmly over the man whose chest she was now leaning on. She was a strong, independent and determined woman, who did not swoon over every contact she made with a man with a strong jawline and chiseled abs, especially one who decided to marry the nearest woman to him when he felt that the end was nigh. She was better than that. She _deserved_ better than that. So she would _not _feel _anything _when they touched and shared one of their overly extended stolen glances, because she was doing fine. Absolutely fine. Completely and definitively fine. Mmhmm.

_I should probably move my hand._

Furthermore, she had certainly not spent the last two months thinking about that man in various shades of anger and other emotions, because she was able to move on. She had kicked Adderall, she could never be addicted to anything again, right? She had gone on dates, and then declared herself single, then kissed… guys, then wrote stuff in her journal that she desperately wanted to believe, and she had made friends, and then asked for more, and promptly afterwards asked for less, and… she was rambling. In her head.

_I'm fine. I'm fine. Annie Edison is 100% fine. It's the exhaustion. Yup, definitely the exhaustion._

She was suddenly snapped out of her serenade. "Uhh… Annie? The elevators stopped. Everyone else has gotten out."

"Oh. Thanks, Jeff."

She moved her hand.

* * *

The group stepped into a plush and luxurious living room, with soft carpets and reclining chairs, a large TV mounted on one wall and a self-service bar on the opposite. They all found a seat and promptly collapsed onto it. The group gave a collectively sigh of comfort.

Humming contently, Annie allowed herself to just sink into sofa for a moment, not thinking about anything, just drifting off into-

"Howdy, bitches!"

She let out a sudden yelp, and sat up. Everyone was now staring at the fat, balding man standing in the doorway.

Pierce stood there for a moment, as if expecting everyone to suddenly run up and hug him. Unfortunately for him, following their hour in the cavern, and nearly drowning, no one was really in the mood to rush up to him. So after a long pause, he lowered his expectant arms and sighed.

"Fine. Hello then. I see you survived my little challenge…"

"That better not be disappointment in your voice, Pierce."

"…nice to see you too, Shirley. Now, as agreed, since you survived the cavern, I will honor our agreement and give you what you need… provided you complete this final task."

"What? Pierce, you asshole, this was not what we agreed." Jeff sounded very angry. Likely because he was.

"Fine then, Winger. Don't take my money. Your choice."

Jeff collapsed back onto the sofa in defeat.

"Any other objections? OK then, all I need you to do is for each of you to spend two minutes with me in my study, and if any of you can walk out with a smile on your face, I will give you all everything you need. Deal?"

They didn't have much choice.

"It's settled then. Remember, stay calm, don't rise to any bait, and smile like you're at a puppy parade," Jeff finished.

"One problem," said Abed. "We have no idea what it's like to be at a puppy parade, since Annie decided to have a bottle episode during the only chance we had to attend one."

"Hey! That pen was really important!"

"OK, this is exactly what we need to avoid," interrupted Jeff. "Abed, you're up."

They had decided that Abed at the best chance of remaining calm, so had decided, in the interest of saving time, to send him in first.

"Cool." He got up and walked into Pierce's study in the adjoining room.

_Damn. Even Abed's nervous._

The rest of the group slumped back into their chairs and waited.

* * *

When Abed slowly walked out of the adjacent study, the five of them immediately stood up and began to rush towards him. But they stopped when they saw his face.

It wasn't smiling. In fact, it almost looked… angry.

They froze on the spot as Abed slowly lifted his arm and extended his finger to point. At Annie.

She let out an involuntary gasp, feeling the eyes of the rest of the group on her. Abed spoke in a low, dangerous and previously unheard of tone.

"You… You're still overcharging me for rent? You _increased _it? And you _sold _my Die Hard collection? You said someone had stolen it! You said friends never lie! And you never lie! But you did, you said someone stole my Die Hard collection! But they didn't! You sold it! You lied! But you never lie! You ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…" Abed began the scream he only did right before he 'broke'. Which he then did. His head slumped forward, limp, as he stood, lifeless, in the middle of the room.

Annie felt the eyes of everyone else never leave her face.

_Oh god._

She opened her mouth to speak, but speech had deserted her. So she just stood there, mouth open, with the deepest flush surging up her neck.

The group stood there in shocked silence, motionless.

At length Rachel spoke up, a voice of icy daggers. "You know how much those films mean to him. You know how hard it was to get them to trust you after you overcharged their rent the first time. You know how he feels about trust. You betrayed him. You betrayed _us_. You litTLE BITCH!" She leaped forward, pouncing on Annie.

"Hey!" yelled a voice, and suddenly Rachel was pulled back, mid-leap, as Jeff seized the back of her collar to stop her. Rachel began to scream protests.

"LET ME GO! SHE DESERVES THIS, THE LYING SKANK! STOP PROTECTING HER, YOU HOPELESS L-"

"That's ENOUGH!" interrupted Jeff, causing her to go silent and the rest of the group to jump back.

Jeff continued in a quieter manner. "This is not about who did what. Yes, Annie did some very bad things, but we have to let that slide for now. Sssh, not now – we have to be more concerned, firstly, with fixing Abed, and secondly about how on earth we are going to past this test. Abed is the least emotional out of all of us, and he couldn't take it, so we have to figure out how to avoid a bloodbath."

* * *

It was a bloodbath.

Shirley had gone in next, and come out barely 60 seconds later with a bag raised over her head, charging straight at Britta. Apparently it was she who had caused Andre to break up with her the second time, having gone to him drunk, complaining for a whole night about how Shirley spent all her time at her business. This had been enough for Andre to take the kids and leave. And now Shirley was alone, with no kids, no husband, but a lot of anger. Annie would have felt sorry for Britta as she was continually whacked with Shirley's handbag, but she was too preoccupied with thinking over what she'd done to Abed.

She knew she didn't have much excuse. She had indeed continued taking money from Abed (and Troy), but since they had had a point in that the money she had saved was only enough for "a jacket", she had raised it a bit. They had been suspicious, so she may have gone on a rather ironic speech about trust. Why couldn't they see she was trying to help them? She had initially planned to stop after they found out, but then they had gone and blown $300 in one night to buy out a 50-seat block of seats at a screening of Batman Begins so they could do… something or other. So, outraged, she had found a better trust fund, and continued saving money for them.

And as for the Die Hard collection… that had been in a moment of incredibly strong spite, self-pity and loathing that she had bitterly regretted afterwards – but not as much as she did now.

She looked up again. Shirley was still smacking Britta repeatedly (and with increasing violence) over the head, and Rachel was given her a stare-down that could freeze the Pacific over.

"Everybody SHUT UP! And SIT DOWN!" Jeff finally snapped. Amazingly, even at the breaking point of the group, he was able to exert influence.

He sighed, and said, "I'll go next. Please try to stay calm, and try not to kill each other."

"I'll KILL YOU!" Jeff screamed 120 seconds later.

As it turned out, Shirley herself had been responsible for the misfortunes of another member of the group: in an act of revenge, she had hired a private investigator to look into the lawyer responsible for letting the stripper Andre had slept with go - this had been Jeff. When she had found out that he didn't have real college credentials, she had tipped off his best friend, Alan, then pretended she had no idea who he was when their paths crossed again at Greendale.

And so Shirley was wholly responsible for Jeff losing his job, and ending up "wasting half a decade at that hellhole" (his words). Despite Shirley pointing out he had enjoyed it, and come out of it a better man, he was having none of it, and things were deteriorating quickly without Jeff to control them.

"Guys, please!" Annie begged, "This is exactly what Pierce wants. To break us down until we're fighting beyond reason!"

"Well, it looks like it worked," retorted Rachel from across the room, "no thanks to you."

"Oh please, I was trying to help him! He's so irresponsible!"

"Oh, and your 'help' worked, did it? And how can you talk about responsibility?"

"OK, LISTEN UP, YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING A-HOLES!"

The group yelped, then stared as Abed came back to life.

* * *

**A/N: **This chapter will be continued in part 2, which will be up later today or tomorrow. Thanks for reading, and feedback, as always, is very much appreciated.


	6. A Hawthorne on Our Side, Part 2

**Chapter 6 – A Hawthorne on Our Side, Part 2**

ANNIE

"I've been with the army for 10 years and I ain't ever seen a disgrace as big as the one in front of me!" Abed continued, in the character of some army trainer. "You lot are the biggest pile of rubbish ever to have graced this ground, so you need to pull your act together!"

The group just stared at him, half relieved at his recovery, half concerned at the same thing.

Suddenly the 'hard and mean' look on his face vanished, replaced with his standard, emotionless expression.

"Annie, despite being the crazy liar that she is, is right. This is exactly what Pierce wants to happen. He's out for revenge, and he's damn close to getting it. So we need to compose ourselves, put aside our differences, and _get this money_. For Troy."

After a pause, Jeff spoke up. "OK, firstly, Abed, I'm glad you're back. Secondly, could you switch off the 'inspirational speech' music?"

"Sorry. It seemed appropriate."

"And finally, you're right. As were you Shirley. I'm sorry, sometimes I just revert back to my old lawyer self, despite my best efforts. Greendale has changed me into a better man, and I wouldn't change it for the world. You're forgiven."

"Aww, thanks Jeff. And Britta, I'm sorry for hitting you so hard… and much. I guess it's not entirely your fault – it's not like I hadn't been spending too much time at the business."

"Thanks, Shirley, but you should still know I do feel really bad for breaking you two up. I didn't mean to, I was just really drunk and depressed. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"While we're still on the apologies slash forgiveness part of the episode, I'd like to forgive Annie. It was wrong of you to sell my Die Hard collection, but I know I can be irresponsible with money. I'll try to be better in the future, so you don't need to keep doing it for me."

"Thanks, Abed." Relief washed over her, but she turned to Rachel and met her gaze. After an extended look, she relented.

"Fine. I guess you have a point." She got up. "I'll go in next then."

* * *

"What THE HELL?" Rachel screamed as she hurled a mini stone statue across the room at Abed.

"OK, I guess she didn't do it. Damn, I was really hoping she could, since I wasn't able to, and she's the next best bet-"

"Abed. Shut UP." She grabbed another statue off the mantelpiece, but Jeff caught her arm and pulled her into a hug to calm her down. Annie _totally _didn't feel any jealousy, because she wasn't 15.

Eventually they pulled apart, Rachel still visibly angry, but at least not threatening to throw another priceless bust of… was that Eartha Kitt?

After a deep breath, Rachel turned to Abed. "How could you?"

The man raised a questioning eyebrow. "Rachel, I know we're 12 times more in sync than a standard couple, but we haven't yet reached the stage of telepathy, or total mutual brain conjoining, so if you could just explain what-"

"YOU KISSED HER!" she screamed as she pointed a finger straight at Annie. Jeff began to move towards her in case she felt the urge to throw something again, but froze as his brain caught up with his instinct. He spun round to stare at Annie.

_Shit._

"You kissed her… while we _were dating_," Rachel continued. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Abed… that wasn't a very respectful thing to do to poor Rachel…" Shirley piped up.

After a moment of thought, Abed spoke. "In my defense, I didn't really kiss Annie. It was more a situation where she kissed me, despite me giving my best 'I've got a girlfriend' look. Although granted, I do need to work on my facial expressions."

Now all eyes turned to Annie, who just stood there, dumbstruck.

_Shit. _

"I… I need to take a walk."

She ran out the room.

* * *

"Hey."

_OK, that is unexpected._

She had spent the last five minutes just leaning over the balcony of one of the guest rooms, just looking at the view… then down below… then wondering if it would hurt… never mind.

Regardless, she had been trying not to think. Not to think about Troy, or the cavern, or Abed, or her theft, or the kiss, or the group staring at her, or Jeff staring at her… again, never mind.

She had sort of been hoping that, eventually, someone would come outside to comfort her, to offer words of advice (like 'never steal someone's money or girlfriend again'), and indeed, someone had.

She just hadn't been expecting it to be Rachel.

She turned round to face her.

"Hey."

Rachel's anger from just a five minutes ago was gone, now her eyes were rubbed red, her mascara smearing.

Annie pulled her into a hug, and started speaking.

"Look, there's nothing I can ever do that can make up for what I've done to Abed… and you, but you should know the kiss had nothing to do with Abed. It was all me. I… just… wanted to kiss someone, and I guess he was there. Not that he's not someone special to me, on the contrary, he's really special, but not in that kind of way, since I know how…"

"Annie," Rachel interrupted her rambling, "I forgive you."

She stared at the girl looking at her with big, black glasses. "Really?"

"Yeah. I know you've been going through a lot, and sure, maybe it was a mistake to kiss my boyfriend, but we've all been there. OK, maybe not _there_, but I know what it's like to feel stressed… and lonely."

She smiled, and Annie returned it tentatively.

"Thanks, Rachel."

"Now, I hate to pull you out of your moment of quiet reflection, but we're kind of counting on you here. You're the only one left."

"No luck with Britta?"

"No, she came out yelling at Jeff – something about being down in a lab, and feelings, and while they were engaged? They were engaged?"

"They don't really like to talk about it." Now she kind of wished she had stayed – what had happened down in the lab that could have made Britta so angry? It's not like their marriage idea was really formed around emotion, so it must have been _really _bad.

She pulled out of thoughts to look back to Rachel. "OK then, let's go."

* * *

"Hello, Pierce."

"Ah, Annie! My favorite. I'm surprised they sent you in last, if I'm honest. Please take a seat."

"No, Pierce. I'm not here to talk. I'm not here to hear my secret, whatever it is."

"Are you sure, Annie? They've been told a lot about you, are you sure you don't want to hear about them?"

"No, I don't, Pierce. There's enough misery here today, even without all these secrets. Troy has been _kidnapped_, Pierce. We have to stay strong as a group, or how are we ever going to find him?"

"Stay strong, huh? You guys strong enough without me?"

"Pierce, we never meant to hurt you. We respect you for all you're worth, as a man, and as a friend. You're stronger than you let on, and I know how hurt you must be, but remember Troy. Remember the great guy that he was, and all he did with you. We need to find him, because it is what he'd do for us. And… we'd love for you to join us."

There was, as appeared to be a reoccurring theme in the day, a moment of silence before Pierce spoke.

"That's all I've ever wanted to hear, Annie."

He broke into a huge smile.

"Here's a number: dial it and it will give you everything you need, financially. As for your offer, I'd love to, but unfortunately I can't step foot outside of this room, since there are cameras all over the place, with the police suspecting I'm not actually dead."

"Oh. Then how do you…"

"Gilbert brings me food and luxuries when he comes round. And there's a window there that drops straight onto a flower patch so I can…"

"OK Pierce, I get the idea, and eww. Look, I'm glad you're OK, and thank you."

She got up and opened the door.

"Annie, wait!"

She turned back to look at him.

"You should know that Jeff-"

But she promptly left the room and closed the door before he could finish. Letting go of the door handle, she took a deep breath before turning to face the others, with the bravest smile she could muster.

When they all came round to envelop her in a group hug, she could help but notice Jeff hung back, leaning against the wall, just quietly staring at her.

* * *

**A/N: **If you've made it this far, I'd like to thank you for taking the time to read– I hope you've gotten some enjoyment out of it. A thank you to both AmyGilli (again) and Westcoast Witchdoctor for reviewing – I really do appreciate it, since feedback is so important to me (not that I don't love seeing people favorite and follow as well!). This concludes Act II: Pierce's Puzzle. We will have a brief interlude, which will be published in the next couple of days, before beginning the next act. Stay tuned, and stay awesome.


	7. Lost at Sea

**INTERLUDE: LOST AT SEA**

TROY

He awoke tired, hungry, aching and firmly bound at the wrists.

They were wrapped around by some chains that clanked whenever he tried to move in order to relieve some of the pain of being hung up standing.

He rather unwilling opened his eyes. He found himself – still – in a dark and dirty room, where the ground swayed and the only smell was putrid mold and the ocean spray outside.

Turning his cranky neck to one side, he saw a familiar face, in a similar state of disarray. His shipmate. Levar Burton. His hero.

_A hero that is just as helpless as me._

He tried to remember what had happened, but it was all very blurry and vague and, damn, he missed his friends.

_Oh god. Don't think about my friends. Don't think about-_

The tears ran before he could stop them.

With all the sniffling, he managed to wake up the actor beside him, who had not been given the liberty of speech, having been gagged the first day after continually yelling at anyone who came by.

Troy tried to remember what he was doing here. Then he remembered that he didn't know. They had been bound like this for three days, by his reckoning, and had only been let down for 20 minutes a day to be fed by a silent and masked man, before the chains were dragged up again.

_I am a broken man._

He tried to remember what had happened before he wound up here. _The Pacific. _He had been in the Pacific, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, happily lounging and talking to his idol. They cracked open a bottle of sake – a gift from their stop in Japan, all those months ago – that he had found while clearing out a storage room. It had tasted amazing, sipping it in the glorious summer sun, the boat gently rocking in the wind. Then suddenly, they both had felt very drowsy, and were drifting off, despite them knowing that you should never leave the boat unmanned. Certainly not when they were both above deck.

The last thing he had seen was a ship moving towards them on the horizon.

He tried to remember anything after that, but there was nothing. Next thing he knew, he had awoken in this hellh-

"Comfortable?"

The sudden break of silence caused him to jump, but he resisted the urge to yelp. This trip, a year so far, had made him stronger, wiser, less dumb. Admittedly, deep down, he knew he would always want to watch Inspector Spacetime, and hang out with his friends, and occasionally even spend time in the Dreamatorium, but he was not the boy he had been.

_But never forget, you're Troy Barnes. Troy Barnes._

He craned his neck to see the man walking towards him, but it was too dark to make out any features. His suit was a light cream, with a loosened shirt underneath. He was the first man also not to be wearing a mask. Levar was also studying him intensely, with a great fury in his eye.

_He is not broken. He is a stronger man than I._

"What do you want?"

"Oh. No interest in how you got here? No interest in _what _you're doing here? Hmm. Well in that case, I shall skip the preamble, and tell you exactly what I want. I want to make you a proposition, Mr Barnes…"

As the man continued speaking, in the back of his weary and drowsy mind, Troy vaguely wondered how he knew his name…

* * *

**A/N: **If you have made it this far, I'd love you to go to the reviews page and leave me either one thing you liked or disliked about the story so far. I'd be forever indebted. This is not really a full chapter, just an interlude (as the title suggests). The next chapter should be up in the next couple of days.


	8. To Find a Captive

**ACT III: THE HUNT BEGINS**

**Chapter 8: To Find a Captive**

"Thanks for letting us use your apartment, Jeff. It's really nice of you," said Annie, a touch too enthusiastically.

"Sure," he replied gruffly. "Don't mention it." The two stared at each other for a second before allowing everyone else to file in.

_Let it slide, Winger. She certainly did._

As the group took their seats on Jeff's corner sofa, he gave himself a moment of rest, leaning his head against the wall, before he went to join them. He was so very tired - mentally and physically. The whole fiasco with Pierce had worn down the group's relationship, as well as his own resolve. _Damn that man_. After a deep release of breath, he pushed himself slowly off the wall before going to join the others on his couch.

"OK," he started, sitting down, "we have time, we have dedication, and thanks to Pierce, we have a huge pile of money. Now, where do we start?"

Silence.

_We didn't really think this through, did we?_

"OK, let's start by-"

"No", said Shirley suddenly, "how about we start by discussing how some people seem to be really, really good at ruining stuff, like marriages – if only there was a word for that, maybe like to _Britta?"_

_Oh, crap._

"Oh right. In that case," responded Britta, "while we're on the subject of ruining others' lives, you seem to have done a pretty good job of that too, right?"

"So has Annie," Rachel muttered quietly, but not quietly enough.

"Uh, firstly, I've explained the situation there about 5 times by now, and secondly, I thought you'd forgiven me?"

"I've forgiven you, doesn't mean I'm not mad at you still!"

"I'm not sure that's how it works, Miss."

"I don't care what you think, and don't you dare Miss me, Miss."

And so the room descended into vehement bickering, with Jeff's head in his hands and Abed observing curiously. After about 5 minutes Jeff felt the beginning of a migraine for his migraine, so he finally snapped.

"Guys, PLEASE," his voice croaky from all the shouting he'd done today, "can we please not fight? Yes, we've all made mistakes, and we're all just a tiny bit loco in the cabeza, but we knew that already, right? Pierce knew this is what would happen, so can we please try and prove him wrong? Please? Before my eardrums start bleeding?"

"Mine already are," said Abed, "but don't worry, it's actually just from the waterslide earlier," when the group looked at him in concern.

"OK then, Winger," said Britta, "what's your plan then?"

_Dammit. OK, think fast._

"Uhh…" _Smooth. _"Right. OK. Shirley, you have a friend in the army, right?"

"Mmhmm," she nodded her confirmation.

"Cool. See if you can't pull in a couple of favors, get whatever you can on possible locations of Troy. Ask about recent captures, hostage situations, anything that might relate to his disappearance. Got it?"

"Yup."

"OK." He was on a roll now. "Annie, I want you to hit the news archives. Paper scans, online posts, blogs, any information we can find. Put your note-taking skills to use, and make sure to comb thoroughly."

"OK!" she said brightly. A touch too brightly.

"Abed, you learnt so programming after leaving Greendale, right?"

"Yeah, spent about 4 months converting my entire life into binary code."

"Right. Do you think you could program something that might be able to comb through some of the more hidden parts of the web. If we really are dealing with a terrorist group, we might need to look in some shadier places."

"I'll give it my best shot."

"Great. Britta, I want you to keep him company, so he doesn't lose focus or… break down again."

"O…K… Why me?"

"Because _I _am going to grab everyone coffee and some food, and I need someone to help me carry it all." He turned to Rachel.

"Sure!" she said, although the rest of the group was a bit less enthusiastic.

"Jeff…" said Britta, "why are you taking Rachel? Shouldn't she be keeping Abed company?"

"Not after recent revelations, no, not really. Also, she's the only one where a direct conflict with me wasn't brought up by Pierce, and I'm gonna jump off the nearest balcony if I hear any more of what happened back at the mansion." Before the group had enough time to process what he said, he continued, "Rachel, grab your coat. Let's go."

He briskly walked out the door before the others got the chance to process what he'd said.

* * *

"So, you'd really never met Pierce before today? Surely you must have seen him waltzing around campus at some point?"

"Actually, no! I'd heard all the stories everyone tells about him, but never actually had the… experience of meeting him."

"Oh, well, consider yourself lucky." She laughed at this.

They were slowly strolling down the avenue towards the coffee shop Jeff went to every morning, taking in the last glorious rays of a late summer. It felt great to get away from all the chaos of the group after their darkest secrets had been revealed, to just take in some outdoor air and chat. Which, as it happened, came pretty easily between Jeff and Rachel.

In a very platonic fashion.

"So… when we were rushing off to find Pierce, I noticed that Agent Vohlers pulled you over to have quick talk before we left. What did she say?"

"Oh! I had hoped no one noticed that. Listen, it was kind of private, so I'd rather not tell you now, maybe at some later date."

"Oh, OK. Sure."

With that, Jeff thought back to the conversation. After revealing that Pierce was still alive, and the group was rushing off to go to the mansion, Vohlers had indeed pulled him aside to talk to him.

"Mr Winger!" she had called out discreetly as he motioned to leave with the others. He had discreetly turned around and walked back to face her.

She had warned him that this terrorist group was very dangerous, and to be careful. After he pointed out that he, and the rest of the group knew this, he then asked why then she was only telling him. She replied that he was the de facto leader of the group, and the dangers not only came from who they were dealing with, but from within as well. One perplexed expression later, she had elaborated that this would be no easy task, that this group, for all its merits, was also uncannily good at ripping itself to shreds, and that it took someone like him to keep them together. Flattered as he was, he also knew there was wisdom in her words: they hadn't even begun looking for Troy and they had already torn themselves to pieces.

When he had acknowledged her words, she had discreetly palmed a small piece of paper into his hand. Whispering quietly, she told him that on there was a number that could be used to call for help at any time. It was, however, a one-use number, so she told him to only use it at the darkest hour. When he asked why she was giving it to him, she said he was the best person in the group to give it to, that despite his outward behavior he was far less selfish than he put on. Again, he was flattered, but also slightly off put by how well she could read him. _This is why she gets on well with Abed._ She also advised him keep the number's existence secret to the rest of the group, since it could lead to serious argument. And with a final handshake, a wish of good luck and the briefest flash of a smile, as if she would get fired if she were caught, the agent vanished.

Coming back to the present, Jeff saw the coffee house up ahead and motioned for Rachel to enter. The two continued chatting platonically in line – the unusually warm fall had brought a sudden craze for iced coffees to the forefront. Still, neither minded the wait: they were perfectly content to be away from the tension of the group.

Suddenly, Rachel switched the topic away the latest episode of 24. "So, who's the lucky lady in your life?"

Jeff was thrown by the sudden subject change, replying, "Uh… at the moment? Um, not really, no one, not at the moment?"

"Really?" Rachel lifted an eyebrow in a very non-platonic way and suddenly Jeff was very concerned. He was even more concerned when she then said "Well, then I have the free right to do this," and leaned in to his lips.

His shock turned to confusion, to _What the crap?_, to _Oh crap_, to relief when he realized he wasn't kissing back. Relief, since he felt nothing passion-wise and so he was in the clear.

So when Rachel pulled back, he was perfectly able to look her in the eye and say, "Sorry."

"What for?"

"I felt nothing there."

"Oh good. Because I felt nothing too."

"Oh. Wait, what? Then why did you do it?"

"Curiosity? Impulse? Revenge?"

"Ah right, the Abed and Annie… thing. I see. Well, feel better?"

"Not really."

"Good to know I can be of service. Listen, whatever the reason you did it, you should know that you're very attractive… and a very good kisser, and it's not the reason I didn't kiss back. You're so much better off with Abed. He's a better man, and you two understand each other so well it's hard to imagine either of you with anyone else." She smiled at him, and nodded understandingly.

"Thanks. Well, now we've got that out of the way, the barista's been waiting to take our order for the last 20 seconds."

He glanced to his side to spot a very pissed-off teenager in uniform watching them with glaring eyes.

The two grabbed the orders like nothing had happened and left the store, happily chatting away about how the government never seems to givv Jack Bauer even the slightest benefit of the doubt, despite saving the country 8 times over.

"Hey," he said, "you know one thing? This is the first time I'll have kissed someone and Abed won't be able to notice something's changed."

She laughed at this, replying "Very true. Because our secret is that nothing's changed."

_She is a very interesting girl_, Jeff thought as they walked back down the avenue, taking in the pink glow of the sunset.

_Also, completely insane._

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks for reading. Feedback is always appreciated. Sorry for the amount of dialogue in the first half of the chapter, I only realized how many line breaks there were after finishing. It was interesting to play with the Jeff-Rachel dynamic, but the pairing was never meant to happen. The next chapter will be up in a couple of days.


	9. Pattern Hunting 101

**Erratum: **In Chapter 7, the original version says Troy thought he was in the Pacific Ocean. This has since been corrected, but anyone who read it before then should know that he was thinking the Indian Ocean. Blame his Geography knowledge, not my typos. Yeah.

**Chapter 9 - Pattern Hunting 101**

SHIRLEY

It was one in the morning and they barely had anything.

Well, anything useful at least. As to be expected from casting such a wide net, they had ended up dragging up a whole lot of sand, but catching few fish. Annie had filled up three notebooks with anything she could find on everything up to pirate-ship-shaped cookies, and Abed's program had come up with a whole list of sites that Shirley had to beg forgiveness from the Lord every other word while reading. And for all their effort they had ended up with a huge pile of information with nothing to link any of it up.

It was evident to all of them that they were making hardly any progress in this state, but they kept going, partly out of thought for Troy, but also because none of them wanted to be the first to call it a day.

"Guys," Britta eventually yawned, "it's one in the morning. We're not going to find anything in this state. How about we all go home, and meet when we wake up tomorrow afternoon."

Everyone murmured their consent, and began to drowsily make their exit.

Jeff seemed to notice Shirley hadn't moved, and asked if she was OK.

"Yeah… I might just stay a while longer. You can go to bed, I promise I won't disturb you."

Jeff nodded his understanding at the implied message. Despite his isolation over the summer, he had bumped into Shirley a couple of times at the café they both frequented, so he knew how she didn't really go back to her empty home much, with the kids and Andre gone. She had spent a lot of summer sleeping at the sandwich shop, or camping with friends, or even at a motel a couple of times. It felt like her home was a ghost house, and she hated it.

It was hard to think about her children, and about her husband. She loved Andre so dearly, enough to have forgiven him for leaving the first time, but it had crushed her when he told her he was leaving again. It wasn't his fault - she really had been spending far too much time working, she was barely seeing her kids two days per week at the time - but it had hurt so much all the same. So now to go home to a cold, dark and silent house was too much for her. Instead, she chose to leave it locked and find something to distract her, much like the memories of her once-happy family.

As Jeff retreated to his bedroom, Shirley leaned back, resting her head on the welcoming leather backing of the couch. It had been an exhausting, mind-numbing day, filled with more than any of them could have predicted. News of Troy's capture would have been enough, but then they had to deal with Pierce and all his… crap, with the cavern and the water and the secrets and, oh good Lord, it was too much. For no specific reason, she felt the tears roll off her cheek and splatter onto her handbag as she let out a sob. This whole thing was a completely new level of _crazy_.

Brushing off the tears with the back of her hand, she sniffled quietly so as not to wake Jeff, and slid down onto the couch, trying not to think about the day's events, or indeed what lay ahead.

Her eyes drooped shut, and she drifted off into a tumultuous sleep, filled with images of stormy seas, underwater caverns and pirates.

* * *

When she awoke, sun was blaring through the flimsy blinds of the living room, but Jeff was still quietly snoring in the adjacent room. Shirley sat up and rubbed her eyes. It was 10 am, but she doubted any of the rest of the group were up yet.

She made her way to the kitchen and pressed the button to whirr the coffee machine into life. She had stayed enough times at Jeff's place on movie nights and obscene faux-camping trips (Britta's idea) to have a rough idea of the layout. While her coffee was brewing, she went to the bathroom to wake herself up. In the mirror, she saw the red-tinged eyes, the blurred mascara from the tears and the messy hair that came from sleeping 10 hours on a couch. She looked for a comb, but it seemed like Jeff really did lock all his toiletries in a safe, so she was left with using her fingers. She washed off yesterday's makeup with some water, and took a deep breath before returning to the living room.

Coffee in hand, she slowly stumbled back to the couch, where papers were scattered all over seats, the glass coffee table and the surrounding floorspace. Reasoning no one else would be up for another few hours, she began sorting the papers into some kind of order. She made a pile for Troy's adventures and recorded sightings, one for recent terrorist attacks on US soil, one for rumors of new terrorists that Abed found on the 'dark net', and so on.

With everything sorted into reasonable piles, it was a lot easier for Shirley to process the information. It was oddly like doing the accounting work for the sandwich stores. She started with predicting Troy's whereabouts at the time of his capture. His last known sighting was Japan, two and a half months ago, where a group of Japanese schoolgirls had fawned over Levar Burton. An interview had mentioned that navigating down the Chinese coast would be difficult, due to hard winds and overloaded shipping lanes, so Shirley reckoned that progress had been slow following their departure from Tokyo. She reasoned that with all the delays, and Troy's frequent stop-offs (he had stopped in Vancouver for a whole month before moving on), they would only have made it to somewhere in the Indian Ocean by now.

With that, she began looking in the other piles for anything that related to the area, and disregarded anything else (there wasn't enough time in the world to read everything). A recent report that Annie had found was promising: the US had raised the terrorist threat level in the South China Sea area four months ago, prompting widespread attention (and criticism) from the countries in the area.

Knowing what she was looking for made the search far easier. A recent attack on US territory, five months ago, had been kept quiet from the press, but there were a couple of articles about a prisoner being detained, who had links to the Chinese mafia as a mercenary, in a maximum security prison circuit. Finally, with a rough location and time frame to be looking at, Shirley turned her attention to Abed's pile of 'dark net' 'groups of major threat' rumors. Anything that was in the wrong area or posted before five months ago was tossed aside. Reviewing the diminishing pile of papers, Shirley began to see a trend in what was mentioned. A group of major threat, becoming active in the last five months, unspecified trouble four months ago… it all fit. There was no name. But there was a city.

Shirley fumbled for her phone and started a group text message.

[Shirley, 11.45 am]: **Hey guys :) When you get this, come over to Jeff's ASAP.**

She contemplated leaving out what she'd found, but decided people would come over quicker if they found out she had information. So she sent out a second message.

[Shirley, 11.46 am]: **I think Troy's in Hong Kong.**

* * *

**A/N: **Story is beginning to pick up pace now. For reference, the first "part" of this story will be 25 chapters long (possibly with an epilogue), that will leave some form of conclusion. A second part may be planned afterwards, but it will have to wait until I see how long this is going to take. Feedback is always appreciated.


	10. Anything for a Friend

**Chapter 10 – Anything for a Friend**

BRITTA

When Shirley finished her explanation, there was silence. It wasn't really a stunned silence, or an angry silence, or even a contemplative silence. There was silence because no one knew what to really say. So instead, the group just sat there, quietly drumming their fingers on their knees, while Jeff's clock ticked over to two o'clock on the far wall. God, that thing was loud.

Britta's focus drifted away from the obnoxious clock to look around the group, gearing up to privately unleash her inner therapist. _Psycho-analyze mode: engage. _Shirley looked quietly pleased, but also slightly perplexed why no one was saying anything. _Classic mental incapacity to detect cause and event. _Jeff looked off-kilter, with actual bed hair and his shirt on inside out. _Consequential insomnia from denial of events. _Rachel looked slightly more tired than usual, but was also sitting up a little straighter than normal, with eyes that were more focused as well. _A rare case of conscious inversion of standard bodily reaction. _Annie… looked kind of sorry for herself. _She's feeling sorry for herself. _Abed was the opposite, he looked exactly as normal, despite probably having the least sleep out of all of them. Britta noticed he was doing the same thing as her. _Stockholm syndrome?_

"No. I just like observing."

"What?" yelled Britta.

"You were muttering some stuff to yourself, and you asked if I had Stockholm syndrome. Also, it's cause and effect, not cause and event."

"Oh." she said, abashed, as she realized what she'd been doing. The awkward silence descended back onto them, as their attentions turned back to Shirley's explanation of what had happened to Troy.

"OK…," said Jeff eventually. "Shirley, thanks for delivering your theory clearly, concisely, and oddly like a sales pitch, but also… uh, nope, I got nothing. Anyone else want to speak up? Anyone?"

Shirley looked around the group, giving everyone the guilty eyes. "Is there a problem?" she said, her tone passively accusing them of something on the order of light treason.

In truth, Britta imagined she was silent for the same reason everyone else was. There was nothing wrong with Shirley's explanation, it was just a… big leap of faith. There was a lot resting on the theory, and if they did indeed end up barking up the wrong tree, it could waste a lot of time and resources.

When she explained as such to Shirley, earning gratifying looks from the rest of the group, Shirley paused to think. Eventually she nodded. "OK everyone, I can see why you might have doubts… even if I did expect a little more faith", muttering out the latter half quickly. "In that case," Shirley continued, "how about we do some more digging, and see if there's anything to prove, or disprove, my theory." She finished with a flourish and a motherly, but still somehow aggressive, smile.

The six of them looked at each other before Britta shrugged. "Sure. Let's do it."

* * *

"This symbol again!" Annie exclaimed. "What is it with this? And we still don't have a name?"

"Nope," replied Abed, "not unless someone's keeping something from us." He looked accusingly at each member of the group, before seeming to decide that no one was hiding it.

Britta rolled her eyes. They'd spent the last two hours digging up anything they could find based on Shirley's theory, and much to her credit, it seemed to click together pretty well. They found more hints of the detainee held on US soil after a mission gone wrong, and even a couple of rumors about a capture on the South China sea. The only issue was, they found no reference to a name for this group – only a symbol. The seven-pointed star.

It didn't help that a seven-pointed star was the symbol for many things, from Christianity to shipping containers. But, then again, it also didn't help that they didn't have a name to pin this logo to.

Taking a self-announced break, Britta tore her eyes away from the screen to glance around the room. Abed was furiously typing away, continuing work on the program he had made to sift through the mouldier crumbs of the internet. Rachel was leaning back, watching his work while sipping on a juice box. Jeff and Annie were sharing a laptop screen, with Annie occasionally writing down something she'd found, while trying to subtly steal a glance at her neighbor. Jeff, on the other hand, had his gaze stuck resolvedly on the screen, refusing to return any of the glances Britta knew he saw. _Poor girl_, Britta thought, making a mental note to talk to Jeff later.

And then there was Shirley, who was sitting nonchalantly on the sofa, looking down at her handbag and generally looking miserable. Britta decided enough was enough.

"Guys, we've been at this for two hours, and we haven't found anything to disprove Shirley's idea. OK, so we don't have a name, but we have proof that they launched a failed mission on US soil that ended up with one of their members captured, and that they operate in the area where Troy would roughly have been, and even some possible proof that they took him. Do we need any more, or are we going to spend the rest of the day, burying our heads in the mud?"

"Sand."

"Shut up Jeff. I knew that. OK, so it's a risk, and if we're wrong, we've wasted valuable time, but we have to have faith, or we'll never get anything done. Besides, none of us have any better ideas, do we?"

Their silence was answer enough.

"OK, we'll roll with Shirley's idea, then," said Jeff. "But even then, how are we going to even start investigating? We've got the money to go to Hong Kong, and probably buy a whole sector of it, but what then?"

Britta's lips twisted up a little.

"I think I've got something."

* * *

The dialing tone buzzed nine times before the other end picked up.

"Hello?" came the tired and distinctly drunk voice. "If it's the phoney bank again, I don't need your lousy PPI, so stop-"

"Hello, professor." She put on her best sultry voice.

There was a pause before the voice came back, stunned. "_Britta?_"

"Duncan."

Spluttering noises came done the line, and possibly the sound of chinaware being dropped onto the ground.

"Any… particular reason you're calling me?" A touch too hopeful.

"Well, that depends on you, _Ian_." This was too much fun. More coughs and gasps came out of Britta's mobile.

"Well… I try my best to pease. Sorry, please." Duncan was trying his best to sound confident. Britta decided that, as much as she would like to play games for the rest of the day, it was probably bordering on cruelty.

"I need a favor, Duncan."

"Oh. Well, OK. What can I do for you, Miss Perry?"

"You mentioned once that you have a cousin who's a high ranking police officer in Hong Kong, right?"

"Yes…"

"I need you to hook up a meeting between him and six Americans, and I need him to share some intel with us. It may have to be off-books."

There was a pause, before: "That's a lot you're asking of me Britta, but I'll see what I can do."

She smiled. "Thanks, Duncan. It means a lot."

"…If you do something for me."

The smile faded. She sighed.

"Fine. What do you want?"

* * *

When she ended the call ten minutes later, she huffed a bit. _Troy, you better be there, or this'll be a bigger waste than it already would have been. _She gave herself a moment before walking out of Jeff's bedroom and back into the living room, where everyone looked up expectantly.

She smiled triumphantly. "Pack your bags, guys. We're going to Honk Kong."

"Hong Kong."

"Shut up."

* * *

**A/N: **And that concludes this Act. Now the story really gets exciting: we're leaving sunny Colorado behind and visiting the Orient! Sorry for the slower-paced last couple of chapters, although it was nice to have a bit of character fleshing before the heat is turned up again. Don't worry, coming up we have guns, and 'splosions, and running and… you'll see. Thanks for reading, feedback is always appreciated.


	11. Daybreak

**ACT IV – PEARL OF THE ORIENT**

**Chapter 11 – Daybreak**

The 777 juddered onto the runway three days later. The jolting as the plane decelerated caused Annie's miniature bottle of complimentary wine to fall off the armrest and bounce along the floor beneath her. _First world problems much? _She smiled to herself. With their new-found moist-towelette-funded wealth, they had been able to splash out little, grabbing six first class seats for their 9 hour flight to Hong Kong.

"Ladies and Gentleman, we have landed in Hong Kong, where the local time is 2.35 in the afternoon and the outside temperature is 97 degrees Fahrenheit, or 36 degrees Celsius."

Across the aisle Annie heard Britta splutter a little. "How am I going to wear jeans and a jacket in this weather?" she muttered to herself.

"I told you to dress appropriately for the weather," Annie said, casually smoothing down the cool fabric of her summer dress.

Britta's eyes narrowed. "Yeah. Whatever. I'm a strong woman, I can handle the heat."

Annie just continued smiling. "We'll see."

"…We hope you've enjoyed your flight with us, and we wish you a pleasant onward journey."

Annie looked around as she waited obediently for the seatbelt signs to switch off. Her eyes rested on Jeff, who had shared the two center aisle seats with her, and was quietly snoring. Annie gently shook his shoulder until his eyes gently opened.

"Hey there, sleepy head. We're here."

He turned to look at her, and thanked her. But, as appeared to be a running theme for the last few days, there was no sincerity in his voice nor his expression. As he turned away to unbuckle himself, Annie frowned. She couldn't figure out why he was acting like this to her. He seemed to be fine around everyone else, but when they had some time together, all he had been was cold and at times even harsh. She figured it was probably something to do with the mansion, and all the secrets about her coming out, but Jeff was usually the one to support her. He was the one who usually would come to her defense when she was vulnerable like this, but not this time.

It was perplexing. Not only because it was so drastic a change in behavior, but also because it had come about so suddenly. The two had been each other's best friend for a long time now, always together at school (the Greendale newspaper, the night-school conspiracy, the Ass-Crack Bandit), and even during their free time. They usually met once a week on a scheduled basis for coffee, but would often text or swing by to invite the other unplanned as well. Even this summer, when Jeff had gone full on 'isolation' from the rest of the group, on one particularly hard night for her she had texted him, and they had met up at a bar to talk.

* * *

"_Hey," he said softly as he approached her. "What's going on?" he asked as he saw her puffy, red eyes and smeared makeup._

_She smiled sadly and leant against his shoulder as he sidled up to her. "Thanks for coming," she whispered into his shirt._

"_No problem," he replied. "I know I've kind of shut myself away this summer, but I'm always here if you need me. Now, what's up?"_

_She sighed. "I was feeling kind of lonely…"_

_He chuckled, "I know I'm awesome company and that we haven't seen each other as much as we usually do, but even I know that Annie Edison being lonely isn't enough to make her bawl her eyes out."_

_She laughed softly. "You're right. Something came up." He waited patiently for her to continue._

"_I called my mother for the first time in a year. I wanted to tell her about my new career path in Forensics, but things got heated quickly, and she ended up hurling insults at me, about how I was a disappointment, about how she never wanted to-" her voice started to crack - "see me… ever again." Her tears soaking into Jeff's grey shirt as he gently rubbed her back._

"_Hey, you know you don't need to listen to, right? It's all false, and you know it. We all know it. You're the strongest, most hardworking out of all of us, and you've gotten on just fine without her. More than fine, actually. You know this – what's making you so sad?"_

"_It's just… it seemed so final. It was so blunt! We usually dance around, her subtly sneaking insults into every sentence, me shrugging them off casually. She's never thrown it in my face before. I guess… maybe this will be the last time I speak to her."_

_He wrapped his arms around her. "Annie, you don't need her. You have us, and more importantly you have yourself. You're strong and independent and amazing, Annie. Don't ever forget that."_

_She pulled away to look at him, blinking away the moisture from her eyes. "Thanks, Jeff."_

"_No problem, Annie. Now, can I get you a drink to cheer you up?"_

_She smiled shyly. "Appletini?"_

_He rolled his eyes, but hopped off his chair to go order._

* * *

Sharing intimate moments of friendship like that were not an uncommon occurrence between Jeff and Annie. It was why she was so concerned by how frosty their relationship had become. As friends, they couldn't be any closer, even if he had decided to randomly propose to another woman when Greendale became threatened, and she had made an acceptance speech about allowing people to do what they want even when she didn't truly believe it, and… great she was rambling. To herself.

She unbuckled herself as the seatbelt sign vanished and grabbed her bags.

* * *

"Holy crap, I can't take this anymore!" Britta moaned as sweat dripped from her forehead onto the jacket that was tied around her waist. Annie just gave smug grin over her shoulder before skipping ahead to catch up with Abed and Rachel.

"Hey Annie," said Abed in a clipped but amiable tone.

"Hey! I was just wondering if you knew how far we have until we get to the police station?"

"It's just this building to the left."

"Oh, this one?" she looked with slight hint of nausea, at the old, tattered and heavily graffitied concrete building, with rotting melons propping open the door and puddles of what looked suspiciously like urine trickling down the pavement.

"No, that one." Abed pointed at the ornate, marble-coated exterior of a huge skyscraper. The glass walls revealed a luxurious inside, with yellow light emanating from crystal chandeliers, and more marble paving the floors. It was quite a sight, and remarkable for a police station, but she guessed it was more from the whole comparison to the other building. Come to think of it, if she were a camera, that would have been classic comedy gold, with the whole misleading camera view thing.

"Well, that was a cheesy sitcom moment…" Annie muttered to herself.

Abed gave her a confused look. "What's cheesy about a police station that looks like one?"

That was when Annie realized he'd been indicating at the building between the two she had looked at, which had the word POLICE written in big blue letters beneath Chinese characters that she assumed said the same. The place looked… exactly like a police station would.

"I need to stop watching so many comedies," she said to herself as they entered.

* * *

Inside, the police station was clean, formal and very grey. A silver-haired receptionist told them to wait on the faded fabric couch, after Jeff, leaning over the stone reception counter, told her they were here to see a Mr Huang. The walls were a stained concrete color, with a few drab, black-and-white-and-a-few-shades-in-between paintings. A fan spun lazily from the ceiling, providing little assistance against the humidity.

After five minutes, a middle-aged man in clean, navy and decorated uniform came down to greet them, speaking with a reasonably clear accent.

"Hello. My name is Deputy Commissioner Huang. You must be Ian's friends. Please, join me upstairs."

As he led the way, Shirley leaned into Annie and whispered, "Boy, am I glad Pierce isn't here," causing Annie to giggle. Deputy Commissioner Huang glanced back at the noise, but Annie just smiled and bowed her head.

Huang's office was modestly furnished, with an oak desk, a couple of familial pictures and some filing cabinets, but mercifully came equipped with an air conditioner.

"Oh, sweet mercy," Britta gasped before collapsing onto the couch.

"Now, I have been told by my cousin that you are looking for some information to help you. For what can I be of assistance?"

"We're looking for information on a certain terrorist group who may have captured our friend on a sailing boat a week ago," Jeff said. "They recently launched an attack on the US, which ended with one of their members being taken prisoner. We don't have a name, but they go by a logo of a seven pointed star."

The policeman raised an eyebrow. "I think I may know who you are referring to. Please bear with me a moment," he said as he exited his office.

A few minutes later he returned with a small stack of files and papers.

"Unfortunately, we do not have much on this group you refer to," he said as he dropped the files onto the coffee table besides where the group was sitting. "They remain rather… illusive. I regret I am unable to help you with their name, but here at the department we refer to them with the codename Zǎochén zhī xīng. Morning Star."

"Unfortunately for you and your friend, we were about to launch a full-scale investigation onto the group when our funding was cut, and we had to prioritize. As such, we have no active operation looking into them. This is all the intel we have. I am sorry I am unable to be of more assistance."

Annie nodded before saying, "That's alright. We're grateful for any help we can get."

The man smiled appreciatively before adding, "Please ensure these files do not fall into the wrong hands. Although I am able to hand you these files legally, it would be best that this information is not made public."

The group gave their thanks as they got up to leave.

"Before you go," said Huang, "I have one last piece that may help you. We are aware of a meeting taking place between a member of the group and a mercenary in two days' time. Despite this tipoff, we are unable to do anything since we have no operation against them. But… if you were to take him down, we would be more than willing to take them off your hands, and give you whatever information we get off him. Would this be of interest to you?"

The six of them looked at each for a moment in hesitation. After a collective nod, Jeff spoke up. "Sure. We're willing to help."

The Deputy Commissioner smiled and bowed. "Thank you. I will go over to where you are staying tomorrow with further information."

* * *

That night, Annie came out of the shower and decided she needed a drink. Knowing that the five-star hotel they had checked into had a very fancy bar, she grabbed a black evening dress, brushed her hair and dusted some makeup on before exiting her suite.

Entering the ground floor lobby, she looked around. Truth be told, she was expecting some of the others to be here, with all their new riches to waste away on spirits, but surprisingly it seemed most had chosen to take an early night. With the exception of the tall, grey-suited man resting his head in his hands on the bar counter.

"Nice suit," she remarked as she pulled up beside Jeff.

"Thanks," he grumbled, barely audible.

And so set the stage for the next five minutes of conversation, as Annie ordered a rum and coke. Eventually, when it came to the point where Annie asked him what his opinions on gun control were and he answered "Varied.", she finally caved in.

"Jeff, please tell me what the hell is going on."

For the first time in nearly a week, Jeff lifted his head from his hands and looked straight into Annie's eyes. And it was terrifying.

For the first time, Annie saw something behind those eyes. She saw pain, and fear, and anger. But more than anything, she saw a vulnerability to Jeff Winger that he never, ever let show. When she tried to speak, she ended up with her mouth silently hinging open and closed.

After what seemed like ten years Jeff finally spoke.

"I think you know, Annie."

And with that he put down some cash onto the counter, got up and stalked away, leaving Annie gazing into empty space with an untouched Appletini.

After another couple of decades, she finally whispered to herself, "I don't. But I wish I did."

* * *

**A/N: **Nothing like some classic Jeff and Annie tension! You've waited five seasons, I'm sure you can indulge me a while longer. Next chapter will be up in a day or two, but may be on the shorter end. Just how the story is planned out. Thanks for reading, feedback is always appreciated.


	12. A Pile of Bullets

**Chapter 12 – A Pile of Bullets**

RACHEL

"OK, so they didn't have any sweet and sour chicken, but they did have it in pork ribs," she called out as she stumbled back through the hotel door into Jeff's suite, clutching several bags of authentic local cuisine. At the sound of her voice, the five of them came rushing through from the living area into the kitchen space, eager for sustenance.

"Hey, hey! Easy!" she called out, laughing, as they began fumbling at the boxes she was still carrying. Abed pushed forwards and took the bags off her hands, laying them out onto the table. She gave him a grateful smile.

As the group tore into their late lunch, Rachel asked what she'd missed while out.

"Not much," said Annie, mouth full of noodles. "We finished up the files, but nothing significant came up since you left."

"Oh, OK," she said, thinking as she chewed on a piece of barbequed pork. "So what we now know is that this group, still without an actual name, operate from within mainland China, but their base of operations stems from Hong Kong. We also know that they have links to the Chinese mafia, who supply them with mercenaries. We know they also have links and may be responsible for a handful of terrorist operations in the last 5 months. And we know that they never launch spontaneous attacks, everything they do is planned, meaning…"

"Troy's capture was planned and intentional," finished Jeff as he swallowed a prawn wonton. "Yeah, that's a pretty good summary."

"What about the meeting tomorrow? Do we have any new information?"

"No," said Britta as she grabbed another vegetarian spring roll. "But the police officer from yesterday called, said he should be here around…" she glanced at her watch, but was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.

"I guess that's him," Jeff said as he stood up to walk to the door.

Despite the heat, Deputy Commissioner Huang entered wearing the same full uniform as yesterday, and greeted the group with a polite bow.

"Hello all. It is good to see you. I hope you are enjoying your… very late lunch."

"We woke up late," Rachel explained.

"Of course. The jet lag must still be getting to you." He smiled. "Anyway, as promised I am here to give you some more information about tomorrow's operation. To keep things organized, here are personalized instructions and information for each of you," he said as he distributed papers in plastic wallets to each of them. "I strongly suggest you read and study them before tomorrow. The risk level is not dangerously high, but you will need to detain the suspect before calling for police backup. There are pictures of the man you are looking for included. The man he is meeting with is a trained mercenary, but he will flee at the slightest hint of trouble – you would be wise to let him do just so, since we have no interest in capturing him at this time.

Once you have the man secured at the agreed detention point detailed in your instructions, call the number and a police squad will be sent to arrest him. Note that we do not know what sort of arms the man will be carrying on him at the time, so make sure you thoroughly search him once he has been secured."

"Understood," said Jeff, "but how are we supposed to handle him if he has weapons and we don't?"

The policeman smiled. "That is what these are for." He lowered a large bag he had been carrying on the wooden floor of the suite and tipped it over. Rachel's eyes went wide as the contents of the bag spilled onto the floor.

A square meter of Jeff's suite was now covered in a selection of body armor, pistols and ammunition.

"Holy shit," she said before she could think about it.

"What on…" said Jeff.

Annie let out a shocked gasp. Britta stared at the collection, speechless. Abed stared, then said "Cool." Shirley sat there, tight-lipped, shaking her head. Eventually she burst out, "I'm sorry, but I can't walk around carrying on of those things on my hip. It's too dangerous."

"Oh," said Huang, "more dangerous than meeting a member of a terrorist organization without any protection?" Shirley had no answer to this. "Look, it is unlikely you will have to actually fire these – if anything, it would be better if you didn't in order to prevent mass hysteria. But you will need them as… I believe the word is deterrence, and the body armor is essential in case the suspect is also carrying a firearm.

Hold onto them, and make sure you're carrying them tomorrow. Also make sure you know how to handle one – safeties, triggers, reloads, et chettera…"

"Does nobody know how to pronounce that word?" Jeff and Annie shared a disbelieving look.

"…and make sure you've put on your body armor as well. Any questions?"

The group looked at each other, but despite their concerns they didn't have any questions that the police officer could answer. After thanking him for his help, Deputy Commissioner Huang showed himself out.

After a long pause, Abed stood up and grabbed a gun. The girls let out a worried gasp, with Annie yelping, "Abed! What are you doing?"

He looked at her impassively. "You heard the guy, we need to learn to use these," he said as he tilted the pistol from side to side, a shine in his eyes. Jeff stood up. "He's right you know," as he bent down to pick one off the floor. "Just make sure not to accidentally fire it."

One by one the rest of them gingerly went to retrieve their weapons, learning how to flip the safety, aim and reload. After the best part of an hour, they moved on to studying their files, which detailed specific locations and dress codes for each of them, as well as timings for the operation. It was all very well planned, which Rachel took comfort in. She could feel the prevailing nerves in the group: sure, they had had intense paintball sessions, but those were fake guns with a prize at most of a year of priority registration. This was dangerous and real, not something they were used to in their sheltered Greendale lives, as crazy as they might be.

After cross-referencing and memorizing their instructions, they made plans for dinner and split up for a break.

* * *

That night, the six of them reconvened at a restaurant Annie had booked earlier that day. It was very high end, with ornate furniture, lofty decorated ceilings and serenading string quartets. Rachel, struggling in her dress and heels (she was more used to jeans and flats), flopped gratefully into an empty chair beside her boyfriend.

"Hey," she said as she sat down, "nice suit."

"Thanks. They're really cheap out here, and I figured I should grab some more formal stuff."

"Well, it looks good on you." And it really did. Rachel loved many things about Abed, but she couldn't deny there was something alluring about a man in a suit.

The atmosphere was cheery and upheld, as the group knew that things would be different tomorrow. Although they generally stayed away from alcohol, fearing morning repercussions, the group got the chance to try some dishes they might not normally have been able to sample: they got through the shark fin soup with only minor protest from Britta, roast duck that even Annie enjoyed after Abed convinced her to stop thinking about the ones she had a habit of feeding at Greendale Park, and even Jeff helped himself to some special fried rice, citing that rice wasn't too bad of a carbohydrate. Although if you asked Rachel, she suspected it was because it tasted darn good.

Conversation was light and amiable, but, like a husk of popcorn stuck in a tooth gap, there was always that slight niggle of how tomorrow might pan out. Still, with good company, good food and moderate amounts of good wine, Rachel allowed herself to enjoy it while it lasted.

After the meal, Jeff stood up and raised his cup of tea as a gesture of a toast. He thanked Huang, although not present, for all his help, he thanked Pierce for the huge pile of money they now had, and he thanked the group as a whole for keeping it together. He then thanked each member individually for their contributions. Rachel blushed slightly at his genuine gratitude for "keeping the group normal, and Abed on the right side of insanity", and smiled as he crammed in as many movie quotes in his toast to Abed as he could. He thanked Britta for being a "great friend, and always willing to offer more than the group wants", and Shirley for "keeping us rowdy lot in check". His toast to Annie was slightly clipped and a touch more formal than the rest: it seemed there was still some underlying tension between the two, although no one in the group had managed to draw out of Jeff what it was about. Nevertheless, Annie smiled gratefully at his words, although Rachel felt something had gone on between the two of them last night – the tension was basically visible between them. Afterwards, Rachel felt it was only fair that Jeff got his own toast, which the group heartily drank to. She felt it was also suitable to offer some closing statements.

"Whatever happens tomorrow and beyond," she said as she stayed standing up, "you should know that you guys are great friends, and the fact we are here, in Hong Kong, on a potentially life-endangering mission to save our lost friend is testament to that. Vohlers was right, with friendship miracles really can happen. So here's to hoping we get one tomorrow. To tomorrow!" she finished as she lifted the minute china teacup.

"To tomorrow!" the group responded earnestly, as she sat back down and the steady stream of conversation began to flow again.

* * *

**A/N: **Next chapter (which will be up in a couple of days) will be where it all kicks off! Thanks for reading, and I'm going to raise my own teacup to my three faithful review-erteers: AmyGilli, Westcoast Witchdoctor and errobotter – you guys are the best! Feedback is always appreciated!


	13. How Little We Know

**Chapter 13 – How Little We Know**

ABED

"Codename Bravo Two Foxtrot is moving to Checkpoint Echo, over."

"Abed, can you cut it with the whole Navy SEAL act please? We literally have no idea what you're saying."

"And why do we need walkie talkies anyway? Three of us are sitting together at a table. Besides, we've got our instructions, I'm sure we can handle it."

"YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!"

"…That one didn't even make sense."

Abed went silent for a moment in thought. "You're right. This jet lag is severely hampering my standard movie-quote awesomeness."

"Abed," Jeff butted in threateningly, "if you don't shut up I will come over and severely hamper you myself. You're distracting us."

"Roger that, Wingman Golf India One. Over."

"Abed, when we get back to the hotel, I am going to sh-"

"Guys!" came Annie's voice down the line. "I think this may be the guy."

Abed shifted his binoculars over to where Annie was leaning on the street corner, pretending to read a Chinese newspaper. He had considered telling her that it was upside-down, but it was quite funny, and a perfect movie cliché. From the ledge of the bridge he was leaning on, he focused his vision over to where Annie was looking, spotting a tall figure dressed in a crisp, cream suit and a baseball cap to obscure his features.

"I think Annie may have something. Jeff, can you see him?"

"I got him." Jeff came into the peripheral of Abed's vision through the binoculars as he began walking casually down the street, following the man.

"Three at the table, the man is about to come past you. Don't look up, but keep an eye on him if you can." The man's suit sleeve brushed Britta's shoulder as he walked past, before turning to walk into the outdoor area of the café that the three girls were sitting in. He took his place at a small metal table besides a larger, much less restrained man who was donning shades and black attire.

"Houston, I think we may have the guy. Can any of you get a better look at him?"

"I'm trying, but he's not facing us," came Britta's voice down the line.

"Hold on," said Shirley, "I'm gonna try and get closer." She stood up and casually walked past the man and into the café, as if to order. After about 30 seconds, she came back clutching three cookie packets, and casually glanced towards the man as she walked back to her table. "It's him alright," she said as sat back down.

"Cool. OK, start the next phase of the operation. The mercenary is facing us, luckily, so we shouldn't have too much of a problem."

Simultaneously Britta, Shirley and Rachel turned around to face the table where the two men were seated, and began casting questioning glances over. They threw in a couple of glares and concealed whispers for good measure.

"Hey Abed," Jeff's voice butted into the line, "I think you've reactivated the study group's bitch mode."

Annie gave an outraged gasp. "Jeff, don't be mean."

"Shut up Annie. I'm not the one with the upside-down newspaper."

Abed's binoculars drifted back over to where Annie was puzzling over her newspaper orientation before Shirley's voice snapped him back onto target.

"The mercenary's moving. I think we've got him," she said as the larger man barged his way hurriedly past their table. Abed's gaze now shifted back to their target, who was frowning and quickly repackaging the papers spread across the table back into his briefcase, before standing up and exiting the area. He gave the three women one last glance before moving off.

"Jeff, you got him?"

"Yup," came the reply as Abed spotted him moving down the street towards the man. Jeff glared at the man for a few seconds before the man's purposeful strides began to falter, followed by a swift U-turn as Jeff rounded off his performance with some spy-impression stuff.

"Good work. But seriously, no-one ever has actually had their microphones embedded in their watches."

"Well he doesn't need to know that, does he?"

"Whatever. Looking good so far, people," he called out encouraginly. "You girls, ready?"

He shifted his focus once again to see the three girls standing like something out of a bad cop movie, with the leaning poses and the careless attitude and the gum chewing. He couldn't help but stifle a laugh, and he heard Jeff trying to do the same too.

"You guys could curdle milk with your cheesiness."

"Shut up, Winger," came Britta's hushed but unmistakably pissed off voice. "We're just too good for you."

"But probably not Bollywood," he smirked.

Despite the ridiculous poses, it seemed to be enough to catch the man's attention, who by now was showing enough concern that Abed could pick it up through his lenses. Glancing round his shoulder, he spotted Jeff still moving towards him from behind, so he did what any sensible man with a tail would do and took off down the alleyway.

"He's playing fair, guys, but I'm about to lose my visual. I'll move to catch up with you, but you're on your own from now on." As he put down his binoculars, he spotted the man take off down the alleyway at full pelt, with the four behind him in pursuit. Abed descended off the bridge as quickly as he could to catch up with the others.

"Any updates, guys?"

Jeff's breathy voice crackled in. "We're closing in on him, he's nervous. I though all criminals were meant to be super cool and calm?"

"This isn't TV, Jeff."

"Am I being lectured about not being in a TV show by Abed Nadir?"

"Stop wasting your breath."

"Touché," breathed Jeff, but he took Abed's advice.

After about 15 seconds, Britta's voice came in. "He's panicking now, but we still haven't quite caught up to him. He's faster than he looks, considering he's in a suit."

Abed skidded into the entrance to the alleyway to spy the five of them nearing the other end.

"Shit! We've got to stop him before he gets back to a public area," yelled Jeff.

"Don't worry guys. I've got this." All of a sudden Abed saw the suited figure convulse and collapse to the ground as a small brunette figure came out of nowhere and press something to his neck.

"Annie?" he called out in disbelief.

"TASERED, BITCH!" she yelled before becoming a bit more self-conscious. Down the line Abed heard Britta ask Annie, in between gasps for air and spilling some chloroform onto a rag, how on earth she got there so quickly. She muttered something about Greendale cross-country, looking sheepish.

Abed caught up with the rest of them and took a moment to regain his breath before saying, "Come on guys. We need to get this guy to the detention point before the chloroform wears off."

"What is it with you guys and that stuff anyway?" asked Jeff.

Abed shrugged. "It's convenient."

* * *

The man woke up three minutes after they had dragged and tied him to the chair in the dingy old workshop space and slid the metal shutter down.

The man spluttered slowly into life, snapping his eyes open and his head up as the recollection of what had happened hit him. His eyes judged each of them in turn, before shaking his head and looking back down to his bound wrists.

Jeff looked at Abed and asked, "Ready?" Abed nodded in response, adding "The guy on the phone says we have ten minutes before the police arrive. Bad traffic."

Jeff grunted. "OK. Stick to the plan."

The two sat down on their flipped-around chairs opposite the bound man, adopting the classic therapist pose. After giving a few seconds for a dramatic silence, Jeff began.

"Hello."

The man's eyes flashed first with confusion, then with amusement. "Americans," he said with a thick accent and a slight lilt of interest in his voice.

_OK. Not what was expected, but we can work with it._

"The police will be here in about eight minutes. We'd like to ask you some questions before you're taken away," he said flatly.

The man lifted his eyebrows. "Do I have to answer?"

"We'd appreciate if you did," replied Jeff.

The man chuckled. "You are the nicest torturers I have ever met."

"We're hoping it doesn't come to that."

He laughed again. "So I can see. Well, what do you want to know?"

Jeff started. "About a week ago, our friend was sailing in the Indian Ocean when he was captured by people who, we are led to believe, work for your group. We'd like where he is and what you want with him."

The man nodded seriously. "OK. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Abed thought this over. "Some background information on your group would be nice. And maybe why you took Troy. And a name for your group – we have nothing to use at the moment besides…" His voice trailed off as he realised the man was being sarcastic.

The man started laughing aloud. "Sure. How about I just give you all the files on our members. And make you a sandwich while I'm at it?"

Abed turned face to Jeff, who nodded at him. "Plan B."

As suddenly as he could, Abed leaped up, knocking his chair over backwards so that it landed backwards with a violent crash. He took two big strides towards their captive before grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him backwards a few times. Abed picked up a slight hint of shock in his eyes, which appeared to be a good sign. He started speaking in a low but intense voice.

"I do not have the patience for you, Mr Lin, and I will not ask again. We are running out of time, and I will not hesitate to put in a few bad words to the police following your capture if you do not cooperate. So I will ask only once. WHERE IS MY FRIEND?" he yelled into his face as he shook him once more for good measure before staring intently at him.

Unfortunately, this didn't quite have the right effect. Not unless it had been part of their plan for him to start laughing uncontrollably. Which it wasn't.

Between chuckles the man said, "As impressive as your act was, next time you should do your research. 24 airs in China as well."

Jeff glared at Abed. "I told you this wouldn't work."

Abed shrugged. "Oh well. It was fun. Plan C then," he said as lifted his gun out of the belt holster, clicked the safety and aimed it straight at the man's head.

The man's eyes lifted towards the barrel that was gently grazing his forehead. "Interesting. I see you came prepared. But now I have question for you. If you shoot me, how are you going to get anything more information for your search? By the sound of it, you don't appear to have much."

Abed noted how the classic movie villain with a gun to his head trope was coming into play now, but the man had a point. After all, they weren't really trained in proper interrogation techniques, and this had been their backup-backup plan. They needed information out of this man or they would be at a dead end.

"So shoot me then," the man continued. "Lose your only source of information. Then what are you left with? An insane prisoner in American hands, an underfunded Interpol lead, and a sluggish Australian ocean search for an abandoned yacht? You have nothing, and yet you're threatening to shoot me?" The man looked around to study the group's reaction in amusement, but was confused when he saw their open looks of shock. After coming to a sudden realisation, he laughed harder than he had even previously. Between howls he manage to splutter out, "You mean… you didn't even know that? Who are you people? You don't even know the plans of the people on your side! This… this is great."

_Well. I guess we got what we were looking for._

Before he had a chance to speak, however, the man continued, "How little you know. This is far more than a simple capture situation. This is bigger than you could even imagine," he finished with an attempt at a gravelly American accent. He laughed again. "See? Acting like someone from TV is not that hard! Speaking of TV, I would have expected you to check for tracking devices, hmm? It is classic TV plot, is it not? Well, you appear to have missed one," he chuckled as he glanced down at his watch.

Before either Abed or Jeff had even had the chance to react, a sudden bang sent them both flying to the ground as one of the walls of the workshop was blown to pieces. They gave each other a fleeting glance before getting to their feet and yelling to the others, "RUN!"

As they fled in opposite directions towards the nearest door, Abed heard the man yell, "Goodbye! Thanks for the entertainment!" as two men went to untie him.

Abed had no idea where the others were as he ran down the corridor of the building they were in. Jeff had rushed to the other door to the workshop, and the girls had not been swept to the floor by the blast of the intrusion, so were probably far ahead by now.

The feeling in his stomach wasn't one he was used to, but judging by the sinking feeling and the circumstances he assumed it was panic. And Abed never panicked.

Behind him he could hear the frantic motions of two or more pursuers. A couple of gunshots rang out, but the bullets came nowhere near him. Abed contemplated pulling his own out and turning round, but with his minimal training, the unbalanced numbers and the general risk of being killed, he decided against it, instead choosing to turn down another corridor, his tails still chasing him.

Two flights of stairs and countless corridors later, he burst through a door onto what he hoped was the street-level floor – the building was built on a steep hill, so the workshop entry they had used was actually two floors below the other entrances. Still hearing the insistent footsteps of the men behind him, he rushed round a corner to crash straight into another person. After a moment of shock, his hand flew straight to the gun in its holster, but before he could reach it he felt the cold metal of the barrel pressing into his forehead. He stood still, thinking at least his death would be sort of cool, when the gun was lowered and he was greeted by the sight of a wild, sweaty and panicked Annie. They both gave a sigh of relief before Abed grabbed her elbow and spun her round, dragging her along as he continued running.

After a couple of more twists down the darkened and narrow corridors, they finally spotted what they had been looking for: the unmistakable logo of a fire exit. They gave each other a quick glance before sprinting down towards their salvation. Their plans were abruptly interrupted, however, when suddenly the door burst open and a man, dressed all in black, walked through, carrying what Abed recognized as an MP5 (Call of Duty finally finding a use). It seemed he was part of a patrol to find the group, since the look of surprise on his face, although fleeting, was evident before he lifted the submachine gun to point at them. The gun barely got halfway, however, before six loud bangs screamed out beside Abed and the man was peppered with an equal number of bullet holes. As he fell to the ground, a look of disbelief on his face, Abed turned to face Annie, the lifted barrel of whose gun was shaking but most definitely smoking. His ears still ringing, he had time to register the blank look of shock in her face before he grabbed her elbow and pulled her through into the safety of public space.

* * *

**A/N: **A nice long chapter for y'all! Told you there'd be action. Anyway, thanks for reading, and feedback is always appreciated. Next chapter will be up in a day or so.


	14. Separated By Chance

**Chapter 14 – Separated By Chance**

SHIRLEY

She sighed. "Well, I guess this is it."

Jeff looked at her, swallowed hard and nodded slowly. "I guess it is."

She looked back at his apprehensive eyes. "Good luck." She smiled, and he returned it tentatively. Hoping to relieve the tension, she pulled Jeff into a motherly hug. Leaning towards his ear, she whispered discreetly, "Remember what I told you." Jeff nodded into her shoulder gruffly.

They pulled away, and with a final wave, Jeff stalked off into the security area.

* * *

_38 hours earlier…_

Five hours after their interrogation session had been cut short by the invasion of Chinese mercenaries, Shirley stumbled into the hotel lobby, where the rest of them had been waiting anxiously for her to arrive. After a moment of collective relief that everyone had made it back safely, they pulled into a big group hug. It was only when Shirley counted four people surrounding her that she noticed Annie, even paler than her usual creamy complexion, sitting shell-shocked on the couch. With a concerned look back at the group, she gently took her place next to her.

"Annie… what happened?" she asked softly. When the girl had turned to face her but been unable to get any words out, Abed had filled in. He recounted his flight through the building during his escape, his bumping into Annie, and what had happened when they had come face-to-face with a mercenary wielding an automatic sub-machine gun. When he finished describing how Annie had laced a whole magazine into the man, Shirley had pulled the motionless girl into a tender hug, whispering "Oh, Annie…" After a few moments she felt her wet patch soaking through her shirt, and heard the quiet sobs muffled into her shoulder. Judging by how the entire group then went to join in the group hug and the gratified looks they gave Shirley, she guessed this was the most sound Annie had made in the last five hours.

But yet again, Shirley noticed that there were only five participants to the group hug, and after they pulled back, she saw Jeff hanging back, hands in his pockets, quietly watching them.

Shirley decided enough was enough. She excused herself from the group for a moment, leaving them comforting the now-bawling Annie, and asked Jeffery if she could talk, _please_, in her sweetest aggressive tone. After glaring him down for a few seconds, he had finally relented and went to join her as they walked towards the bar.

* * *

As they sat down on the raised stools she turned to face Jeff and said, in her most determined voice, "You are going to tell me exactly what the hell is going on between you and Annie, or I will ask her myself."

The man gave a brief look of shock at the anger in her voice, before washing over it with a smirk. "Good luck with that. She claims she has no idea."

As tempted as she was to slap him for his ridiculously irritating behavior, Shirley realized that it was more important to get him to talk. As such, she continued in a more restrained fashion.

"Jeff, if you don't want to tell me why you've spent the last week looking like you want to tear the head off your best friend, then I guess you don't have to. But you need to know that she's in a bad place right now. She just _killed _a man, Jeffery. And she's not going to recover any quicker if her best friend and general life counsellor is blanking her like she's become invisible. Please, even if not for her, it's weighing down the rest of the group. We need to find Troy as quickly as possible, and it's going to be difficult enough without tension within the group."

Jeff sat there tight-lipped for a second before sighing loudly, deflating.

"Fine. I'll try my best. Let's go sort out the rest of the group."

Shirley gave a reassuring smile, but he didn't return it. As he got up to walk back, Shirley said, "Hold on a minute, mister. This lady needs a drink after today. I'm sure you do to, hmm?" Jeff raised an eyebrow before nodding and ordering a scotch and a vodka martini with extra olives.

* * *

Grabbing their second round of drinks, the two of them made their way back to where the others were waiting. Annie, although her eyes were red from crying, gave Shirley a tentative smile as she sat down next to her. Jeff remained standing and addressed the group.

"OK. Firstly, I'm glad everyone made it back safely, but I'm sure everyone can tell that didn't exactly go to plan. The guy escaped, the police lost an officer in the shootout and some of us had some fairly bad experiences on our way out." He remained tight-lipped but continued. "But, in a sense, we got what we were looking for: information. Although it was fleeting and not very detailed, I'm sure you all remember what the man said. What we have to work with is a prisoner in the US prison system, an Interpol lead, which works from France, and an Australian-led search for a missing yacht. That's three leads. And… after some thought, it's become obvious to me, and to I hope to you, that we don't have time to waste. We have three leads, in three completely separate places, and there are six of us. Perhaps it's time to place Troy's safety in front of that of the group's. What I'm trying to say is…"

"We should split up," finished Abed. "Dismantle the group."

Jeff slowly nodded. "Only while we investigate each of the leads. Once we covered all of them, we can work on getting back together." He looked at each member of the group in turn. And one by one, they mentally searched for a list of alternatives, came up blank, and slowly nodded at Jeff.

After the group had reached silent agreement, Jeff continued. "What's left to decide, of course, is how to split us up."

"We could pull it out of a hat," said Shirley.

"_Or_," said Britta, "we could pair up in more obvious pairings rather than rely on chance. For example, Abed and Rachel."

"And besides," added Rachel, "we don't want to start Abed up with the whole 'other timelines' thing again."

"Don't worry about that," said Abed, "in my theory, this method would be fate, not luck."

"…So we could pull it out of a hat," repeated Shirley.

"And end up with imperfect pairings?" mused Jeff. "Surely it would be better to actually discuss it?"

"But how do we decide which pairings are ideal anyway?" asked Abed. "Won't that just lead to argument and a repeat of what happened when we all rated each other and we ended up killing a tortoise?"

"…which is why we should _pull it out of a hat_," said Shirley.

"So if we go with Abed and Rachel," said Britta, "how do we pair the other four?"

"Out of a-"

"Actually," interrupted Abed, "we can't need to assume that the ideal pairings espionage-wise would be what we need anyway. There are some character arcs that desperately need to be resolved."

"Abed, if you start up again about the whole-" Jeff said in a raised tone.

"You do realize there's only solution to this, right?" Shirley burst out sharply.

The group turned to face her. As each considered the options in their head, they all finally relented.

"Fine," said Jeff. "Abed, go get two bowls, some paper and a pen."

"Why me?"

"Because you're the fastest, and I want to get this over with."

* * *

"OK," said Abed. "One bowl contains all our names, and the other the three destinations for the next part of the story – sorry, plan. No cheating, and no swapping with anyone else."

He tossed them both a couple of times before offering one out to Jeff. "Jeff, pick a place."

Jeff reached his hand in and pulled out a strip of paper. Unfolding it, he read out, "Australia."

Abed nodded. "OK, Shirley, pick out two names." Shirley closed her eyes and fished two pieces of paper out. When she unfolded them, she let out a small squeal of delight. "Abed and Rachel."

Abed glanced at Rachel, who smiled, before shrugging and saying "Cool. Cool cool cool. OK, Jeff, pick another place."

"USA," he responded after picking another strip.

"Britta, chose another two pieces."

Britta placed her hand in the bowl and picked up the strips, putting one back in when she realized she had picked up three. Unfurling them, she glanced up.

"Shirley and I."

"OK," finished Abed. "Meaning Jeff and Annie are going to France. Everyone clear?"

The group nodded. Shirley turned to look at Britta, who was doing to same back. It was true, the two hadn't always got on perfectly, but they both knew it was a better situation than the couple besides them. And they weren't referring to Rachel and Abed.

* * *

That was how, 24 hours later, Shirley found herself pulling Jeff into a hug, whispering some last words of advice before he walked off into airport security, where Annie was already unloading her stuff into a tray for scanning.

Shirley had talked to both of them separately after Abed had pulled the names out of the hat, and they had taken the news quite differently. Annie, having more or less recovered from the shock (at least externally), had smiled and said she didn't mind, it was probably good for them. Jeff had drunk four double scotches whilst Shirley tried to talk to him about his feelings, but he had told her to stop Brittaring and walked away, back to his room.

Shirley was nervous for them, but also for the fate of the group as a whole. They'd already said an emotional goodbye to Abed and Rachel earlier that day as they checked their luggage in, so this left Britta and Shirley alone for a couple of hours while they waited for their flight. There was something very serious about the group splitting up this way, which was odd: it wasn't like they lived together back at Greendale. She supposed it was the danger each of them faced in their journey onwards.

As Jeff stepped through the body scanner and out of Shirley's sight, she turned to look at Britta, who was also watching them.

"I hope they'll be alright," Britta said quietly.

"Me too." After a pause, she said, "C'mon, let's go grab something to eat. You hungry?"

Britta turned to look at her with a grin. "Starving."

* * *

**A/N:** And so ends Act IV. Hope you enjoyed our stay in Hong Kong! An interlude is up next, followed by three parallel acts that detail the stories of each of the three pairings. Exciting stuff, I know. Thanks for reading, feedback is always appreciated. Next chapter will be up in a day or so.


	15. The Deal

**INTERLUDE: The Deal**

TROY

As the video continued playing on the monitor, Troy felt a sense of longing that came from seeing familiar faces for the first time in months. Being at sea hadn't allowed Troy much chance to talk to his friends back in Colorado, but nevertheless he wished that seeing his friends' faces again would have taken place under more comfortable circumstances.

"It seems your friends are sniffing where they shouldn't be, Mr Barnes."

Perhaps before the voyage Troy would have snorted at the thought of his friends sniffing along the ground towards him like rabid dogs, but he had to maintain some sense of gravity here. He paused for a moment as he watch Jeff and Abed get tossed to the ground as the wall burst open and a squad of armed men burst into the room.

"What they do is up to them. This does not affect our deal."

The man nodded. "You are correct. Speaking of which, our side of the deal has been met as of yesterday."

Troy nodded back. "Good. You know I will need proof."

The man grabbed the remote to the old CRT TV display and switched to another recording.

"We cannot release him fully until you have fulfilled your side of the bargain, but he is currently in a motel in Colorado, with no connection to the outside world but in relative comfort."

Once Troy was satisfied that Levar had indeed been taken back to the States and given a more comfortable than he had been in with Troy, he acknowledged that his demands had been met.

"Fine. Tell me what I have to do."

The tight-lipped, pale man gave his best attempt at a smile, which was slightly worse than Abed's. Troy had spent the last five days talking face-to-face with this man, and he was still just as repulsed now as before. Thinning black hair topped his pale, peeling complexion that was accompanied by chapped lips and small nose. His lanky figure would struggle in any physical fight, but it didn't matter, since he was accompanied everywhere by two bulky and armed henchmen. As Troy studied his ugly face for about the 30th time, the man slid a piece of paper across his desk to where Troy was standing. He cautiously picked up the crumpled piece and unfurled it.

As he read, the man explained what he wanted. Troy was to read what was written on that piece of paper on film, which would then be distributed to major news networks across the world, stating the last clause with an unsettling level of glee and malice. As Troy continued reading his script he shook his head in disbelief.

"Need I remind you, Mr Barnes, that unless you comply, the deal will be off, and your friend Mr Burton will be at our mercy once again. Furthermore, we may have no choice but to deal with your troublesome friends…"

Although outraged by the threat and what he had to do, Troy knew he had no choice. And, for the first time in two weeks, the walls of defence he had built up so carefully began to crack, and fear leaked in once again. He swallowed hard before nodding.

"Excellent. My men will escort you back to your cell."

Troy walked back uncertainly, hoping that the man wouldn't notice his shaking hands as he slowly pushed up the pen and paper he had palmed from the desk into his shirt sleeves.

A year on a boat gave plenty of time to learn magic tricks.

* * *

The next morning, as his wardens came to escort him away from the cell he had occupied for the last two weeks for the last time, he casually dropped the note he had carefully written onto the floor of the cell seconds before the door was locked.

Later that day, as he sat in the complete discomfort of the luxury private jet of his captor, he knew there was nothing more he could do.

He just hoped his friends had something.

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks for reading. Double chapter posting today since this one is so short, and because I love you guys 'n galls that much. Feedback is always appreciated.


	16. To Find a Captive Redux

**ACT V - SEARCH AND RESCUE  
(Rachel & Abed's Story)**

**Chapter 16 – To Find a Captive Redux**

ABED

"I think I have something," said Rachel as she continued typing on her laptop.

Abed walked over to where Rachel was sitting on their hotel bed, taking his bowl of buttered noodles with him. Even with all the delicious delicacies they had enjoyed in Hong Kong, he was still overjoyed when he saw that their room in Perth came with a kettle.

Twirling another bite with his plastic fork, he leaned forward to see what Rachel had found.

"Australian Coast Guard."

"Yup. And take a look at current active operations."

"Search for missing aircraft MH370… are they still doing that?"

"Yeah… but it's this one we're interested in," she said as she highlighted some text on the screen.

"Working in tandem with ASIS to locate missing seacraft in the Indian Ocean… what's ASIS?"

"Australian Secret Service."

Abed raised his eyebrows. "Looks like this might be it. Good work." Rachel smiled and looked quietly pleased with herself, before closing the lid of the laptop and turning back to face Abed.

"We'll continue with that tomorrow. It's late, how about take a break? I saw Inspector Spacetime on one of these channels…" she trailed off, fingers running circles on the bedsheets.

Abed looked at her with a smile. "Sure."

* * *

Later that night, Abed opened his eyes to see the Inspector Spacetime marathon still playing in the background. He looked across to see Rachel looking back at him.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hi."

"I know it probably doesn't mean much to you, but I'm glad you're here."

"You're right, that doesn't mean much to me. But I know it means a lot to you. And I'm glad you're here to." She smiled as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

He awoke on a beach, the waves gently lapping at his face.

Everything was vivid. The colors, the shapes, the sounds… it was like nothing he'd seen before.

_Perhaps because of just that_, came the thought in the back of his mind. He looked around. The beach led to a sharp cliff face, extending up thirty or so feet. Abed was too far down to see what was up there. He looked out in the other direction, but all he saw was sea, a menacing navy color. The sky too, although bright blue and tinged with fluffy butts, looked down threateningly at him.

He turned around and walked along the beach for a bit. The sand was coarse, but not sharp. His feet felt almost like they were drifting through nothing, but he saw them firmly plant into the sand. He felt something jab him in the leg, and looking down he suddenly saw the pistol that was resting in his pocket. He wondered how he had missed that.

Up ahead, he saw a wooden hut, styled in an oriental fashion, raised above tide level by wooden struts. He found some rough stairs that led up to the platform of the hut.

A woolen cloth indicated an entrance. Lifting it up, he walked inside. It was a lot bigger within. A bright chandelier flickered with candlelight, illuminating a huge oak dining table that stood central in the room. He saw his friends sitting merrily, eating chicken fingers, but one glance away and they had disappeared. And suddenly the room was vacant, save for two people.

His eyes widened. "Troy."

His friend grinned widely. "Abed! I'm so glad you made it!" He leaped forward to pull Abed into a deep hug, and Abed felt happiness, but suddenly he frowned.

"Wait. How am I here? Where am I?"

His friend pulled away to look at him with amusement. "You're here, Abed. With me. I'm safe. Isn't that what matters?"

He frowned in thought. "What about the others? Are they here?"

"Abed, you don't need them. You need me. We're best friends, remember? Remember what's important."

_Remember. _His eyes opened even wider. "Remember. I don't remember anything. I don't remember how I got here. I'm… I'm…"

"Abed…" Troy said, warningly.

Abed looked up at his friend. "I'm sorry, Troy. I want to stay. But I want my life more. All my friends. You're still my best friend, but you're not my only one. And I want the real one, not you."

"But… I am real, Abed. Stay here and I'll show you."

"No. Because I know where I am."

And suddenly a small brass spinning top appeared on the table. And it spun. And spun. _Limbo_.

Troy's features began to morph and maim. "Abed… look what you're doing to me… your friend. Stop Abed. STOP." Troy's voice rose to a yell, but was drowned out by the crashing sound of timber that drowned Abed's ears.

As a beam fell behind him, Abed took the pistol that was resting in his pocket. He examined it. It was cold, sleek and black. Far blacker than anything he had seen. It wasn't a metallic black, but a pure black, one that let no light reflect off it.

He took it, pressed it to his temple, and squeezed.

BWAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRM- "ABED!" yelled Rachel.

His eyes flew open, and was greeted by a view of Rachel's very concerned face. He looked around, and saw the dimmed light of the lamps in the hotel room casting shadows all over the wallpapered walls. It all looked really… normal. He leaned back into his pillow.

"What was I doing?"

Rachel looked down into his eyes, still straddling him. "You were shaking like crazy. I thought you were having some breakdown or something. Are you alright?"

He paused for moment to think. "I'm fine. Thank you, though. It was a bad dream."

"Well, it was just a dream."

"Yeah."

Rachel switched the lights back off. They lay there for a few minutes before Rachel spoke.

"What was it about?"

"Troy. I saw Troy."

"Oh! That's… good?"

"No. It wasn't. He wanted me to stay with him at his wooden hut at the beach, and not leave."

"And you said no?"

"Yeah. I wanted to come back, because I knew it wasn't real. So I put a spinning top on the table, and then shot myself."

"Hmm… Sounds quite familiar actually," she said with amusement in her voice.

"Yeah. I don't think I'll be able to watch Inception for a few years now." She giggled, and he felt better than he was back.

* * *

"Please, take a seat," said the kindly, middle-aged blonde as she sat back down at her desk.

At breakfast that morning, Rachel had rung the Coastguard number she had found on the site that she had showed him the day before. As he cut up his chicken sausage, Abed listened as Rachel explained down the phone that she was calling regarding a search they were currently undertaking in the Indian Ocean, and that they might have some information that would help, and would like if possible to get involved with the operation. After a few more minutes of discussion, she had managed to book a meeting with the head of the operation, whose office was a short walk from their hotel in Perth, and who was now watching them expectantly, hands clasped on top of her desk.

"A week and a bit ago," Rachel began, "we were informed that our friend was captured while on a year-long voyage around the world. Our search led us to Hong Kong where, after meeting with a member of a group we believe to have taken him, gained some information that there was an Australian search operation on the yacht. We believe this is the one he was referencing."

"Obviously, we may be wrong," stated Abed. "But there is enough evidence to point to your operation being related to our search."

The woman appeared to think for a second before speaking. "OK, I'm unable to offer any information about our operation, since it is classified. But suppose that this is the same one we're talking about, why are you here?"

Abed tilted his head. "Troy Barnes, one of the two captives, was my best friend. We're all very concerned for him. However, I understand that sentiments don't really equate to much in this line of work. That's why I'd also like to say we have reasonable evidence to suggest that his capture is not a simple hostage situation. We think he was capture with intent for a much grander scheme, and if that is the case, we need to act quickly to figure out what it is."

Now the woman tilted her head, fiddling with a pen in her hand. "OK. So, if this were the case, how would you be able to help?"

"As Abed said, the two of them were practically joined at the hip before he left for his voyage. If Troy got the chance to leave a message, some sign of where he went, then it might be in such a way that only Abed would notice, or understand. Also, Abed… sees the world in a different way to normal, and his skills are something that may come in useful if that is the case."

"So what do you want?"

"We want to participate in your search, and offer our help in any way necessary. It's important, both for Troy's safety and possibly that of the civilized world that we find this yacht as quickly as possible. We are dealing with terrorists here, and we have to act quickly."

The woman paused for a couple of minutes, seemingly mulling over her options in her head as she continually clicked her biro. Suddenly, she stared at the two of them, before spinning her chair and typing rapidly into her computer.

Rachel and Abed sat there in silence for five minutes before the printer besides them whirred into life. The woman snatched the papers from the printer before handing them one each.

"These are your operational codes. Bring them with you when you go down to dock 21 at Fremantle Harbor in two days' time at 5 am. Do not lose them, and do not tell anyone else. A man will be there to give you further instructions."

She offered both of them a firm handshake and walked over to the door to lead them out. When they paused at the doorway to thank her, she merely nodded and gave a terse reply.

"Good luck."

* * *

**A/N: **BWAAARRRMMMM. That was a lot more fun to write than I anticipated, and also totally unplanned. Hope you enjoyed it. Feedback is always appreciated. Next chapter will be up in a day or so.


	17. Duly Noted

**Chapter 17 – Duly Noted**

RACHEL

Bleary-eyed, Rachel stumbled down the dark and slippery pier, counting the dock numbers.

"Next one ahead should be it…" she yawned out.

"You mean that one? The only one that isn't a small yacht?"

She laughed softly. "Yeah, I guess it would make sense."

They continued on, the silence only broken by the occasional yawn or the gentle sound of waves breaking against the wooden dock. Coming up to their dock, Rachel looked up at the looming silhouette of the large grey boat docked ahead of them. They gave each other an apprehensive, but excited, glance before continuing onward.

When they drew near to the boat, Rachel saw that although it was tied to the dock, its boarding bridge had been raised. A couple of lights shone out from circular portholes, but there was no sign of any movement. "Hello?" she called out, raising her voice above the sudden roar of the ocean. "Anybody?"

After about a minute she heard a window slide open somewhere on the boat. "This is government property, Miss," came a soft male Australian accent. "What are you doing here?"

"We have operational codes?" she answered tentatively, not knowing if she was allowed to say that.

There was a moment of silence before the voice returned. "Stay put. I'm coming out."

Rachel and Abed stood there patiently while a mechanical whirr heralded the lowering of the boarding bridge. As it landed with a solid clunk, a sudden slit of light indicated someone opening a door to the ship deck. A silhouette moved down the bridge towards them. Eventually Rachel was able to make out the rugged stubble and large, muscled body of the man approaching them. His padded armor and completely black dress rustled softly as he made his way towards them.

"Who are you?"

Rachel pulled up the two pieces of paper with their operational codes to show the man, fumbling in the onshore wind. The man took them off her and scanned them quickly, before turning to look at the two of them. He narrowed his eyes a little at Abed, but he merely tilted his head and stared back impassively in response. After a couple seconds, the man nodded slowly.

"Alright. Welcome aboard my ship. Captain Slade Wilson, at your service."

* * *

As Captain Wilson, back turned, poured coffee into small metal cups, Rachel glanced round his quarters. It was mostly varnished wood, with a couple pictures of family, places, friends. A map was pinned up on a large corkboard. 4 red pins hung around the Australian coast, sneaking up north towards China.

The captain caught Rachel inspecting the map, and explained, "The pins indicate the area we've already searched. We'll be heading up here for the next couple of days," he said as he tapped an area west of Indonesia. Seas are calm, luckily for you, but I can't promise we'll find anything. Hell, we can't even find a great bloomin' plane," he quipped.

Rachel nodded. "Well, thanks anyway."

"Just following orders. So, what brings you here? You sure don't sound Australian."

Abed spoke up. "No. We're from Colorado. Our friend, Troy Barnes, was captured nearly two weeks ago by a terrorist group that has no name other than a Chinese police codename of Morning Sun. We tracked down a man in Hong Kong, who hinted that Troy's capture was part of a grander scheme. We're hoping to find Troy's yacht that he was sailing in and see if he left any sign of what he was involved in."

Wilson nodded slowly. "Alright. Your claims check out – we'd been tipped off that there was a larger threat linked to this yacht, hence why I'm here from ASIS. Got anything that would help the search?"

Abed seemed to think this over for a second. "If this really is part of a larger plan, then Troy's capture would have been organized. They probably wouldn't have let the yacht continue to float at sea then – it likely would have been taken with the two of them. That means it's probably docked somewhere – not at a port of to a mainland though. An island?"

Slade shook his head. "Australian Coast Guard received a distress signal from what is presumed to be the yacht that fits around the time you say it had been captured. Unless they towed it a long, long way, there are no islands in the area."

Abed continued to think. "They would try to minimize the risk of being seen: a yacht being towed by another ship, especially after a distress signal had been sent out, would look suspicious. Maybe…" he drifted off in though.

"What about oil rigs?" Rachel suddenly blurted out. The two men turned to look at her.

"There are plenty of oil rigs round here, right?" she continued. "Some of them must be abandoned, it would be a perfect discrete place to tie a yacht to."

The two continued to stare at her, then simultaneously at each other, before nodding.

"Sounds plausible." "No objections."

The Australian turned to face her. "You could be right. I'll search up a list of abandoned oil rigs in the area." He walked to his desk before adding, "Good work." Rachel's mouth could resist curling up a little.

* * *

An hour later, six blue pins stuck out from the map. After checking on his laptop (and complaining about satellite connection speeds), Captain Wilson had located the names of six currently unused oil platforms in the area they were travelling too.

Pushing the last one into place, he took a step back to view the map. "Alright. That's all of them. We'll search them first, which will take up the rest of today. Help yourself to food in the cafeteria if you need any. I'll call for you if anything comes up."

Rachel thanked him as she and Abed got up to leave.

* * *

Two coffees in hand, she walked up to Abed, who was leaning over the fence on deck, looking out to sea. Rachel had to admit, it was a very dashing sight.

"Looking good. Any particular reference?"

Abed turned to face her, accepting one of the cups of coffee. "Not in particular. I just like watching the sea. I hadn't seen it before coming on this trip. The vastness of it all. It's almost cliché, but it can't really be, since it's real and actually is that vast."

Rachel nodded. "It's true," joining him. "I remember when I first saw the sea. My father took me on trip to the beach during summer when he and mom had an argument. He brought me an ice cream, walked along the sand with me and had a long talk about how it's important to remember the bigger picture. I think he was talking more to himself, since I heard them make up when we got back that night. Still, I remember looking out to sea, wondering what was on the other side, and whether giant squid played with boats like children do in bathtubs."

Abed nodded. "They probably do. Although playing with a miniature version of an actual aircraft carrier would be so much cooler than a toy one." Rachel chuckled at this.

After a moment, Abed spoke again. "I'm trying to decide whether us finding the yacht actually docked at one of these rigs would be cliché or not. On the one hand, finding it on our first voyage out would be kind of convenient, but on the other…" he was silenced by Rachel's finger on his lips. He looked at her with mild bewilderment.

"It doesn't really matter, does it? What's more important is finding Troy, so we should just hope this leads somewhere, right?" After a moment, he slowly nodded into her finger.

"And besides, this is my first good idea, so it has to work, right?" she giggled, and he smiled into her finger.

* * *

They found it at the fourth rig.

Abed spotted it first. They were standing with Captain Wilson at the helm when he squinted a little, and then snapped a pointed finger up, an excited glint in his eye. He indicated the white mass floating at one of the legs of the rig that they were pulling up to, and Wilson pulled his binoculars up from his chest to confirm it.

As the boat pulled nearer, Rachel could see that the yacht had seen better days. The mast was snapped at the base, half dangling in the water. The deck was partially covered in water, and rotting food stuffs floated along the wooden decking.

Walking across the ramp that they laid between the two boats, Rachel saw nothing on the boat that looked out of place. No apparent sign of struggle, no mobile phone or laptop. The yacht had been thoroughly ransacked for anything incriminating. Even the control board had been met with a crowbar or similar, its wires spilling out onto the floor. The empty crisp packets and boxes of cereal were all that were left, floating in the water that had sloshed below deck since the door had been left open.

Somewhat disheartened, the three of them, along with a couple of Wilson's colleagues, climbed up the oil rig to see if anything had been left above. Initially, they were met with as much disappointment as back on the yacht. Outside, there was nothing except a couple of empty plastic mesh crates and metal barrels, similar unfilled. It was not looking up until Abed spotted that one of the doors had been left unlocked and slightly ajar.

Inside, the smell of smoke was instantaneously recognizable. A couple of cigarette butts on the floor confirmed recent activity within. They found an old wooden desk with a wad of paper, some stationary and a waste-bin. A thrown-away newspaper was dated three weeks ago, well after the place had supposedly been abandoned.

Working room by room, with Captain Wilson leading, knife and pistol in hands, they found more evidence of recent activity: food that wasn't completely rotten; discarded letters in waste-bins dated from the past week; unrusted tools beside older, rusted ones.

The penultimate door on the left of the corridor was firmly closed. It took a couple of shoves to open it, and Abed froze when he walked in. He spun round a couple times, sniffed a little, and stared back at Rachel and Wilson.

"This is it. Troy was here."

Slade frowned in confusion. "How on earth could you possibly know that?"

"We shared a bunk bed for three years. I know his smell. And this is definitely it. More sweat and dirt than usual, but undoubtedly him."

Rachel didn't doubt for a second that Abed knew Troy's odor. "OK. So, anything here?" she asked as she spun round the room, looking for anything.

Abed walked towards the mattress, lying in the far corner of the room. He asked to borrow Wilson's knife, promptly slicing the mattress open, while explaining, "In our zombie apocalypse plans, Troy and I agreed that should we need to separate, we would leave notes in sleeping areas for the other to find when we came back from foraging, or whatever. So, if he stuck to the plan, there should be something-"

"Over here!" Wilson called from the opposite corner of the room, gingerly holding a crumbled piece of paper at the corner with his thumb and index finger. "Looks like a note."

Abed stopped slicing through the remains of the mattress and stood up, muttering something along the lines of "SO cliché" under his breath.

The captain handed Abed the note, insisting he should do the honors. Abed scanned the piece quickly.

"Starts by saying that whoever finds this first should read it entirely, notify authorities, then pass it on to Greendale Community College, USA…"

"OK…" said Rachel. "What then?"

"Then…" Abed continued reading. Suddenly, his eyes widened further than Rachel had seen before, his face somehow going pale despite his complexion. As he looked up, there was panic in his eyes, yet another expression Rachel had yet to encounter.

"What does it say, Abed?" she asked hesitantly.

He gave a brief summary. Rachel, stood there, shocked, while Captain Wilson froze by her side, eyes as wide as Abed's in disbelief.

Trying to recover, Rachel spoke shakily, "Does it say where, Abed?"

Abed scanned further down the page, before looking up.

"New York."

* * *

**A/N: **This ends Rachel and Abed's story, hope you enjoyed it. We are well over halfway through this storyline by now, although I am really excited for the next few sections. Thanks for reading, feedback is always appreciated. Next chapter will be up in a few days – a nice trip to Paris…


	18. Residual Heat

**ACT VI – HOT COFFEE  
(Jeff and Annie's Story)**

**Chapter 18 – Residual Heat**

JEFF

"Hey, I think I've got something," said Annie as she continued swiping the screen of her mobile. Jeff grunted, stepping forward a little as the next person walked up to the border immigration desk. In his peripheral vision, he saw Annie quickly glance up at his brief, sullen response before sighing and returning to her phone.

As Annie continued explaining about the Interpol search in South Eastern Asia for an unspecified reason, and how the search was based from Paris, even though Interpol was based in Lyon, etc…, Jeff gave himself a moment to think about the past two weeks. It really had been something, with Troy's capture and Pierce's crap and Hong Kong and the chase and the guns and… It had been eventful, to say the least. The stuff that had happened… he had thought nothing could be crazier than the time Abed had become convinced he had proof they were a TV show, but this was a whole new level of unbelievable.

And then there was the fact that he had also spent a good portion of time standing next to his best friend, but only saying a grand total of about 20 words to her.

An eventful fortnight indeed.

"…and a plastic cucumber taped to his forehead."

He snapped his head to look at Annie. "Wait, what?"

She smirked. "I knew you weren't listening!"

He narrowed his eyes and glared before stalking off to another immigration desk queue, leaving Annie's smirk slowly fading off her face.

As he walked away, he felt Shirley slowly glaring into his mind, possibly with a frying pan in her hand, but he wasn't ready. Not yet. He knew that Annie's kind, oh-nothing's-wrong-between-us-at-all act, as kind as it was considering how much of a jerk he was being, wouldn't last forever, and he feared what would happen afterwards, so he knew he couldn't wait forever. But he couldn't yet.

He walked up to the immigration desk, where he handed his passport to a man in thick rimmed glasses and sporting a very impressive brown mustache. As the man scanned and stamped it, Jeff's eyes drifted to the brunette patiently waiting at the adjacent desk. She was quietly humming to herself, eyes drifting randomly.

It infuriated him.

With a final resolute stamp, the man slid the passport back to Jeff. "Enjoy your stay."

Jeff took the passport and glanced back. "Thanks."

* * *

"Are you serious? There must be a double somewhere in this city?"

The man with slicked-back raven hair and pale complexion looked up. "I am sorry sir, but unless you want to go down to two-star, or drive twenty miles, this is the only room available for tonight. It is very late in the day."

Jeff sighed. It had been 9pm by the time they had collected their luggage, moved past immigration and found the hotel help desk. Jeff's hopes of his own single room with a stocked minibar and time to think things over alone had been crushed when the man patiently informed him that all the hotels in Paris where there wasn't a chance you'd be murdered by a French Norman Bates were fully booked for the night, with the exception of a single room in an upmarket hotel, which came with one double bed. This had been bad enough, but then the man had quietly informed him that this vacancy was only out because a couple had cancelled their wedding.

It was a honeymoon suite.

_Abed would be over the moon._

Hands sliding over his face and into his ruffled hair, he spoke into his wrists. "We'll take it."

As the man nodded and started typing, Jeff felt Annie sidle up to him. "Everything all right?"

He nodded, still staring at his shirt cuffs. "There's only one vacancy in the whole of city, somehow. It's a single double-bed."

Annie mulled this over for a second. "Well, I'm sure this won't be a problem, we're both matur-"

"It's a honeymoon suite."

Annie froze for a second, mouth opening and closing silently. Eventually, she shook herself out of her stupor, and replied, "Well, we can just brush the petals onto the floor. At least we get champagne, right?"

She waltzed off, leaving Jeff to quietly pound the desk until the man politely requested he stop.

* * *

As he slid the key card into the reader and twisted the door handle, he paused. Maybe some ground rules would be good.

"You take the bed, I'll find a chair or a couch to sleep on. Have the champagne or whatever they give here, I'm taking a shower then going to sleep." Without waiting for an acknowledgement, he pushed the door open.

_Tasteful. _The suite was more of an enlarged room: a tiled and spacious bathroom to the left as you walked in, and a sprinkle of white petals leading to the bed, which stood central in the room, enveloped in creamy veils and four dark oak struts. A leather couch sat against the large curtained window, and a couple of cabinets, a wardrobe, minibar and champagne in an ice bucket rounded off the furnishings. It was very luxurious, but not quite the discretely partitioned room he was hoping for.

He tossed his suitcase onto the couch, grabbed a t-shirt, shorts and some fresh underwear before heading to the bathroom.

As the water ran over him, he leaned his head against the cold marble, breathing heavily. He heard Annie slowly pad around the room, and the quiet clink of glass against glass. _Well, at least someone's enjoying the alcohol. _He thought about Annie, quietly sipping champagne on the bed, dressed only in her camisole and… no, don't go there. He switched the water off and stumbled out of the shower.

After drying off and putting on his change of clothes, he opened the door to the sight of Annie patiently waiting outside the bathroom door, her fresh set of clothes and a towel already in hand. She gave a shy smile as he brushed past.

Hearing the bathroom door shut behind him, he noticed the champagne still in its bucket, unopened. He frowned in confusion until he spied the short glass set on the coffee table beside the couch where he planned to sleep. An opened glass bottle lay beside it.

Premium scotch, served neat and with a bright yellow post-it note taped to the side, equipped curly cursive handwriting.

_Thought you might need this, Grumpypants. Can we please talk at some point?  
Have a good sleep. x_

He grabbed some spare blankets and pillows from the wardrobe, downed the glass in one gulp and collapsed onto the couch.

* * *

He awoke to the sound of whimpering.

Judging by the lack of light coming through the curtains, Jeff guessed it was still the middle of the night. The room was completely dark, so he grabbed his phone and used the screen light as a makeshift torch. When a couple more moans and shaky breaths came from the bed, he slowly got up, shaking the drowsiness from his head and concentrating on not creaking the floor too loudly.

When he got nearer, he saw Annie curled up in fetal position and still quietly whimpering in her sleep. An exposed (and very smooth… not the time) leg was shaking violently against the sheet. Jeff slowly sat himself on the edge of the bed, trying hard not to shift the mattress too much.

When the shaking and terrifying sounds failed to abide after a couple minutes, Jeff slowly placed a hand on Annie's shoulder, gently holding it there.

She awoke and sprung up to a sitting position in an instant, gasping loudly, eyes wide and frantic. It was her hands that Jeff stared at, though.

They were grasping an imaginary gun.

Suddenly, Jeff realized what the entire nightmare had been about, and it came crashing down on him how hard it must have been for Annie to have killed a man. Annie, who had been all but disowned by her parents, victim to drugs, lived in the roughest part of town for two years and pretty much rejected at every point in her plan for life. And now she had to live with the fact that she had killed someone.

He pulled her into gentle hug, slowly rubbing her back and whispering his most comforting shushes as she continued to gasp for air and shake in the aftermath of her nightmare. Eventually, she lowered her shaking arms and wrapped them around Jeff's back, returning the hug.

They both sat there in their embrace long enough that they lost track of time, until Jeff felt Annie's head grow heavier against his shoulder and heard the gentle snores. He laid her back onto her pillow, and briefly contemplated joining her before quietly walking back to the couch.

* * *

**A/N: **Next chapter will be up in a few days – these final few chapters may come out slower than their predecessors, as I now have other stuff to do. Thanks for reading anyway, and feedback is very much hated. Sorry, appreciated. Damn autocorrect.


	19. Wandering Eyes

**Chapter 19 – Wandering Eyes**

ANNIE

As she lounged lazily in bed, sheets half-strewn over her, and with the morning sun piercing through the slotted blinds of the hotel window, Annie made a mental note that her dreams had to stop.

Flicking half-heartedly through the channels and listening to the sounds of the shower in use five feet from her, she elaborated to herself. It wasn't the ones about her old addiction, how sometimes she would be chased by a hooded figure bearing a scythe and ADDERALL scrawled over its darkened forehead. It wasn't the ones where she would meet again the man that stalked her back to her old home, the grey glint of metal sneering from his hand. It wasn't even the ones where she lifted the heavy pistol from her hip and fired rounds until the faceless man before her was nothing but a red pulp on the floor.

It was the one where she woke up from her plagued nightmares, shaking, and her best friend would be there to comfort her until she drifted peacefully back to sleep. That one was worse than any her deepest fears could ever imagine. Because then she would wake up the next day, and it had never happened.

Like right now.

She had woken up so happy. It had taken a couple of seconds to remember why, but when she had, a genuine smile had blossomed onto her face for the first time in a while, and she hummed peacefully in contentment. But when she leaned up and saw Jeff grabbing a towel from the drawer, he had merely nodded, emotionless, and gruffly grumbled something that approximated to "g'morn…'" before stalking off to the shower, closing the door a little harder than required.

It was like last night hadn't happened. That he hadn't been there for her when she needed it most, like he always was. That he hadn't held her until she drifted peacefully back to sleep. Like it was all a dream. And that was far more terrifying than any dream of knife wielders or gun victims could ever be.

She sighed before grabbing some jeans and a blouse, and headed down to the hotel breakfast alone.

* * *

"Mr Winger? Miss Edison?" The young blonde woman smiled as she saw the two of them stand. "Please, this way. Agent Vohlers informed me of your visit."

As the blonde walked down the hallway with Jeff and Annie trailing behind, Annie couldn't help but notice Jeff's eyes swaying to the beat of the blonde's hips with every move. She shook her head in disgust before skipping forward a few steps to draw up next to the woman.

"You sure don't sound French?" she said inquisitively.

The blonde smiled before turning to look at her. "Good spot. Yeah, I'm from the States, but here on some two-year exchange between the Agency and Interpol." When Annie uttered a surprised "Oh!", she continued. "It's pretty good here, actually. The place is better equipped, and the food's nicer. Agent Vohlers and I are good friends, we still keep in touch. That's how she let me know you were coming."

Annie smiled. "Nice to know agents can still have friends. Annie." She offered her name as she extended her hand. The blonde returned the smile warmly and took her hand.

"Walker. Sarah Walker."

* * *

As Annie took her seat on the blue felt sofa beside Jeff, Agent Walker sat down at her glass desk which stood against the wall of the spacious office.

"So, what can I do for you two?" she said as she leaned forwards on her desk, pursing her lips.

With Jeff in a minor stupor, Annie spoke up. "A couple of weeks ago, our friend Troy Barnes was kidnapped at sea by a terrorist group with no name, but a codename of Morning Sun. Six of us went to Hong Kong, where we stopped a man and questioned him. He gave us three leads, one of which was that there was an Interpol lead on him." Smoothing down her skirt, she continued. "I'm guessing that the people here don't really have much to go on, and probably don't know about the link Troy's disappearance, but the group we're looking for works from Hong Kong, has links to Chinese mercenaries, is responsible for a recent attack on US territory, and may be planning something big." She looked up, hopeful. "Any ideas?"

Agent Walker narrowed her eyes in concentration, tapping a manicured finger against her cheek. After a moment, she suddenly looked up. "I think I know who you're talking about. You're right, we didn't know about their relation to the recent capture of your friend, but we have been looking into them. Give me a second, I'll go get their files." As she strode purposefully out of the door, Annie again noticed Jeff's eyes trailing behind her.

Annie snorted in disbelief. "If you like it so much, why don't you just go up and grab it."

Jeff's head suddenly snapped round to stare at her. "What?"

"Your eyes. Her buttocks. Glued together in holy matrimony. Sorry, I don't know if you can actually hear this, since you seem to have forgotten what English is."

His eyes narrowed. "So what's it to you? Why can't admire a nice body when I see one?"

"Oh yeah? And who else's do you admire when you think they're not looking?" She had meant it as a snarky remark, but when Jeff's eyes faltered in their glare and he failed to respond meaningfully, she realised he saw it another way. As he gave a couple splutters, a tinge of red creeping up his neck, Agent Walker returned.

"OK… So this is what we've got on the guys we think you're talking about," she started as she rounded the table and dropped a couple of folders onto the frosted glass coffee table. "Quite a lot appears to be what you already know, but we recently intercepted a message than we think originates from the group. We've translated and deciphered it, but there's quite a lot of codewords in there. Maybe, since you've seen the guys, you'd have better luck than us?"

Annie peered down to look at the files. Briefly flicking one open, the original messages were written above a translation, with dates and various interception details included. The messages seemed pretty clear, bar the use of seemingly random words: a "basket tomb" here and a "preliminary Lancaster" there – it was all quite strange. Still, it was better than nothing, and it certainly confirmed there was a lead here. She looked back up to where Jeff and Agent Walker were both watching her. She nodded slowly.

"Give us some time. We'll see where we get to, and we'll tell you if we find anything." She smiled, and the agent returned it warmly, giving some further details before reaching into her pocket to retrieve a vibrating mobile and excusing herself. As she walked out, Annie couldn't help but notice the gold ring glinting in the sunlight from her ring finger as she held the phone to her ear.

* * *

"So, you must be disappointed," she began as she stirred her coffee, leaning forward from the chair of the outdoor café.

Jeff looked up from his sullen silence. "What?"

"The woman. Agent Walker. She was married. I said you must be disappointed."

His brow crinkled in confusion. "Why would I be disappointed?"

"Oh, you know, the whole 'my eyes are stuck to her body with industrial glue' thing you had?"

Jeff paused for a moment before looking down and shaking his head. "Annie, just because I admire someone for maintaining their physical health doesn't mean I want to get down on one knee and declare my undying love."

His sarcastic tone bit her. "Oh, of course. Because you don't seem to be in the mood to declare much these days. Or talk, for that matter." An edge of anger tinged her voice.

Jeff snapped his gaze up again, clenching his jaw. He opened his mouth to rebuke, but he couldn't seem to think of anything.

"What's up, Jeff? Lost your voice again? Like the last FREAKIN' TWO WEEKS?" Suddenly a frustration she hadn't realised she'd been pooling was unleashed. She tossed aside all sense of self-consciousness, despite the people who were now staring at the two of them. She had to settle this once and for all, because it was killing her inside.

"_You _are going to tell me what exactly is on your mind that makes you treat me like I've killed your extended family, or we are never going to talk again." Her voice was almost a snarl.

Jeff's eyes narrowed. "Don't give me ultimatums, Annie. You know exactly what you're playing at."

"Oh really? I know what I've done wrong, do I? I know exactly what I've done to deserve this, but it's just that I'm way too selfish to rectify it, right? I mean, why on earth would I want to reconcile with my best friend?"

"Oh, is that what I am now?"

"What the hell are you on about?"

"You know damn well?"

"THEN FUCKING TELL ME!" she screamed at the top of her voice, like nothing that she had ever heard. Jeff recoiled for a second, before standing up slightly, leaning forward and glaring into her eyes.

"You. Kissed. Him."

_What? _"What?"

"You know damn well. You kissed your roommate. For what reason in all of humanity would you do that? He has a girlfriend!"

"That's what this is about? OK then, yeah, I kissed Abed during the summer. So what?"

"So _what_? Why?"

"Fine. You really want me to say it? I was trying to repair myself. I was trying to pull myself together. To be independent. To not rely on anyone else. To be able to do whatever I wanted. I went on dates, I got a job, I sorted my life out. And yeah, I kissed my roommate to see what it was like. Again, so what?"

Jeff shook his head in angry disbelief. "That makes absolutely no sense!"

"What do you want, Jeff? You want me to spell it out for you? I was on the rebound from your stupid freaking marriage idea with Britta. I downed a whole bottle of scotch in two days before I threw it away because the stupid drink reminded me of you. I promised myself that I didn't depend on you. So I went on some blind dates. I called Rich. I drank nights away at bars. And, yes, I kissed Abed. _So. What?_"

"SO WHAT? It drives me UP THE WALL, Annie! You know full well I can't bear to even think about you being with someone else! You opened the freaking door with all my feelings for you, for Christ's sake! I don't even have feelings! So what the hell do you think I'm mad about? The thought of you kissing someone else, of your free will and not theirs, is enough to make me want to throw myself off a balcony!" He stood up, chair scraping against the ground as it was pushed back.

"You mean more to me than anything ever," he said. "And I can't bear to think of you with anyone except… me. But clearly, you've tried to move on. Maybe so should I."

Annie simply sat there with her mouth unhinged, coffee cup handle trembling in her fingers, as Jeff walked away and disappeared into the Parisian crowd.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry it's been a while since the last update, but as I've said these last few chapters will take longer for me to find time to write them. I hope you're enjoying it so far. Feedback is always appreciated.


	20. There's Always Time

**Chapter 20 - There's Always Time…**

ANNIE

She had been sullenly flicking through the files and was filling up a fourth notebook when there was a knock on the door.

Dejected and thoroughly unenergized, she slumped down for a second and contemplated ignoring it. It would be so easy just to lie there on the welcoming leather couch. They would probably leave after a minute. What would be the point, anyway? But somehow she found the strength to lug her way across the corridor and to the door. Grasping the handle, she lazily swung it open, but immediately awoke with a start when she saw her visitor.

He stared at her for a few seconds, hesitation in his eyes. Tentatively, he leaned forwards. Annie furrowed her brow for the briefest of moments before leaning towards him. Their lips tentatively brushed and molded before a moment before he leaned back out to judge her expression. Annie tried her best to say _Please_ with her eyes, but eventually she just took the initiative and grabbed the back of his head, leaning in. And so Jeff and Annie shared their first kiss since the Tranny Dance all those years ago.

She threaded her hands through his soft hair, pulling him further towards her as he leaned down to accommodate their prolonged kiss. A moan settled at the bottom of her throat as their lips molded together as perfectly as lock and key. Despite it having been five years since they had explored each other's mouths with such animosity, it felt like they both knew exactly what to do.

After melding together for a good five minutes, still standing in the doorway, Annie wanted take things a little further. She slowly took a few steps back, pulling Jeff with her by his shirt, and began to move her hands more adventurously. She didn't get very far, unfortunately, before Jeff pulled away with a gasp for air and a red flush on his face. Before Annie could let out her groan of protest, he started speaking.

"Wait. Before we go any further, as amazing as that was and as much as I would like to skip this bit, I need to say some stuff." Annie wanted to protest and lock her lips back to his, but the sincerity and vulnerability in her voice made her nod slowly in response. Jeff stared hesitantly before continuing with a sigh.

"Annie, you're the most important person in the world to me. It's really hard for me to say, because I'm no good at the whole 'expressing emotions' bit, but it's true and I mean it." He swallowed audibly. "You're my best friend, and my mentor, and my counselor, but it's taken a long time for me to admit that it's more than that. I can't bear to see or even think of you with anyone else, and the reason for that is fairly obvious to everyone else. I've just been too scared to admit it. When I heard you'd kissed Abed, something so strong overcame me… it was unbearable. I've realized that my feelings are so strong for you that the thought of you… not with me is too much for me to handle. Heck, my feelings for you are so strong they _freakin' saved Greedale._"

He took a step closer, gazing down at her, their bodies centimeters apart. "Annie Edison, you mean more to me than anyone or anything else ever has. You took my old, selfish, egotistical self and shaped me into a better man. And it will break me if I spend any longer running away from my feelings for you. So please, if you feel even half what I feel for you, let me at least try to make up for all I've done wrong and everything you've done so right. Let me-"

Jeff's mouth became otherwise occupied as Annie practically smashed her lips against his, drawing her hand round the back of his neck and pulling it towards her.

_Yes yes yes yesyes._

After another five minutes of frenzied resolution of sexual tension, it was Annie that broke off with a huge smile on her face. Seeing her expression, Jeff's face lit up into a warm grin in return. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned into his chest with a sigh.

"I could never be with anyone but you," she said into the soft grey fabric. She looked up to gauge his reaction. His eyes visibly relaxed, and he tightened their embrace.

"Me too."

They stood there for a moment before he let her go, grasping her by the shoulders.

"C'mon. Let's go take a walk."

* * *

"Really? And that was the last you saw of her?"

"Yup. She told me exactly what she thought of my apology and with parting slap left, never to be seen again."

"Ouch. I always knew she was a bitch."

Jeff snorted. "Yeah." He had to agree, Professor Slater seemed a lot less appealing when he had stopped having sex with her.

They continued ambling down the path beside the Seine, the sunset a rosy glow before them. Jeff's arm was wrapped around to Annie's waist, and she was gently resting her head against his side. It felt… just right. Like it had always meant to be. She sighed contently.

Jeff looked down at her at the sound, fondness in his eyes. He chuckled slightly. "Look at what you've done to me, Annie Edison."

She glanced up, giving her best innocent eyes. "What?"

He rolled his. "You know exactly what. The whole 'soppy' thing. _I _don't do the whole cutesy lover thing, yet here I am, walking along a river at sunset, chatting to a girl with no particular intention of anything more."

Despite the warm fuzzy feeling of pride within her, she leaned forward towards his ear. "Oh really? No intention of anything more?"

If she hadn't known Jeff better, she could have sworn she saw his cheeks go a shade pinker. "My point is proven." He stopped walking and turned to face her.

"Annie."

"Hmm?"

"You're amazing."

She may have let out a small squeal as she pulled him into a tight hug.

* * *

"What about Canada? You said you ski a lot, you must have been to the Rockies!"

"Annie, for about the fifth time, I have _never _been outside of Colorado except for this trip. Am I not speaking English or something? Bloop bleep boopy doopy doop dub? Is that better?"

Annie rolled her eyes. "Very funny. And not cool, bringing up that Glee song. You know how much I hated that." Jeff made a disagreeing murmur.

"I beg to differ. You looked like you were enjoying yourself perfectly fine. I know I was."

"Jeff!"

"OK, the mistletoe was a bit concering."

"Jeff…"

"And maybe when you started crawling on the floor? That storage room was not clean."

"JEFF!"

"What? I was concerned for your wellbeing. And maybe your sanity. But certainly not your looks – those were fine. Anyway, what I was saying was that no, I've never been to the land of syrup, moose and apologies."

"We should go some time! We can stay in Vancouver, and take a water plane to see Victoria Island, and go to the Rockies, and finally have that skiing trip, and..."

"Share a room?"

She slapped him lightly on the chest. "Is that all you ever think about?"

"With you?" Smirk. "Maybe."

* * *

"Ha! I knew it! You're such a nerd."

"What? It was pretty fun the first time with F…riendly Neil, so I went along to a couple of his sessions until I realized I didn't have enough time. Then… when Hickey's son came round, well, I decided to pick it up again."

"Hmm. And you never thought to invite me?"

Jeff rolled his eyes. "It didn't appear to me like D&D would be your thing..."

"Uh, excuse me! I'll have you know Hector the Well-Endowed was a very competent player."

"Sure thing. OK, then, I'll make sure to invite you along next time I go play. Deal?"

She grinned happily. "Of course!"

Jeff rolled his eyes again as they continued on in peaceful quiet. The sun had by now begun to dip beneath the Parisian skyline, darkening the pink glow of dusk. Travellers cycled past along the cobbled path as the water of the river slowly lapped against the bank. As much as she would have liked to continue walking along the river – possibly until they were stopped by something like the ocean – she turned to face Jeff, both hands in his.

"Jeff."

"Hmm?"

"What now?"

He looked at her, confused momentarily. His mouth opened as if he was about to speak, but only silence came out. After his jaw hinged up and down a few times, he reached round to the back of Annie's head and pulled her into a soft, tender kiss. A moan welled up through Annie's throat involuntarily as she reveled in Jeff's public display of affection.

She couldn't be happier.

Eventually, he pulled away to look at her. Annie simply stared back, waiting for him to speak.

"In the long run? I think I'll concentrate on never losing sight of you ever again. Oh, and figure out how to tell the others without them killing me with blunt knives and white-hot pokers." He put a finger on Annie's lips as she motioned to protest. With a smile, he continued, "But for now, I'd really, _really_ like to take you to dinner. How does that sound?"

Annie stared at him, eyes widening, for a second until she realized that Jeff was growing increasingly concerned by her lack of response. So she squealed aloud instead and threw her arms around him.

With a chuckle, he threaded his arms around her waist, allowing her to lean backwards against them. "How about we split up to find some stuff to wear, and we'll meet back up at the restaurant in two hours? I'll text you the details."

She nodded enthusiastically, giving an uncontrolled burst of happiness breaking her into a huge smile. Jeff rolled his eyes.

"You are _such _a romantic."

* * *

**A/N: **Who's back? Woop woop! Sorry, that delay was longing than even I anticipated. I have a bit of a break now, hopefully I should be able to get at least one other chapter up in the next couple of days. Stay tuned, and feedback is always appreciated – especially for this chapter. Romance ain't really my _forte_, so I'd love for some critique on what I could improve.


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